"Do you fear the final hours?"*

I just went through some papers we got today detailing the charges from my mother's time in the hospital. The vast majority of it is covered in one form or another, but...

Holy shit.

She was there just about twenty-one hours and between the hospital and her doctors, I think the total submitted charges were around $50K. That's like 66 cents a second.

And in the end, all it bought was a one-way ticket out the door, wrapped in plastic.

Reading the numbers on those sheets wasn't the toughest part. It was the words that went with them. Electrocardiogram... anesthesia... surgery... autopsy... they put me right back on the roller coaster of that morning, and day, and night, and middle of the night, and morning again. It was the fastest and worst ride ever. And when you thought it was over, it had only just begun. We were up and down so many times in that stretch it's just unreal to look back on it.

I don't know that I have the strength to look back on it as a whole. Still, specific moments from that time creep up on me when I'm lying awake alone, or driving to work, or...

Those are the absolute worst.

Only two people share all of those experiences. We're the only ones who know. We're alone in that.

No one else shares that.

No one else wants to share that.

I don't want to go through the process of sharing that.

I don't know if I can.



I only know that I must.


*Rolling Stones - "Blinded by Rainbows"