“God help me!”

This moving piece is written by my Twitter friend for years – erudite, serious but often funny, too. An Aries like me, and we are on the same “wavelength” – whatever and wherever that is. This is about compassion for a stranger. I want more compassion in this world.

Destructive Anachronism

On the last of the past several days I spent in hospital (nothing to worry about — a chronic condition), I was moved to a different room. Why? Something to do with overcrowding (the phrasing’s comparison to prison conditions would surely elicit a wry smile from Foucault), though I was being moved from one double suite to another, but whatever. My new roommate C. was in a very bad way. I occupied my new room in mid-afternoon, and the rest of the day (and through the night), C. moaned in apparent agony; I didn’t even attempt to introduce myself, as he was clearly semi-conscious at best and non-verbal. I’m quite sure he never knew I was there.

I had already been informed that I’d be discharged the next day (yesterday), as I was more or less recovered and in good and improving health. C.’s anguish was difficult to listen to…

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6 thoughts on ““God help me!”

  1. A very touching story, one that resonates at this very moment as a week vigil with dear friends continues.. one of their dear ones is in a coma, all taking turns in the hospital two hours away, and others sit with that dread of bad news and dare to hope for good news. There is a lot of weeping as fatigue sets in… There is nothing quite as ‘human’ as the human touch – words are not needed – the touch communicates so much more.

    Thanks for pointing us to this post.


    1. Oh, yes. You describe it so well. I just read your blog post, and send my sympathies and condolences… Indeed, how fragile we are. Although for some reason, we think we are invincible! For someone who is extremely ill or dying, touch is reassuring. Words don’t always get through…


  2. Wow, the memories of death that come back to me. I was there at my father’s, and having worked in nursing homes when I was young, there were many deaths. The number of people that do die alone, is on one hand very sad, and another maybe not, him/her may prefer it. It was wonderful to read though, that there are still individuals out there willing to hold a hand, not many can find such inner strength.


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