The Man in the Chair

On the fourth floor of St. Argemir’s Memorial Hospital, a man with his head in his hands sat in a chair.  Surrounding him were floral displays of every shape and size with cards, balloons and teddy bears accompanying them.  He didn’t notice them.  He sat there and just watched the man lying in the bed in a coma.

“I know you can hear me,” the man said to the patient. “I wish you could give me a sign.”

The man in the bed didn’t move. The only sound was the slight purr of the respirator.

“Remember that time we played down by the creek? When we shot bottle rockets at the other kids and built dams?  That was fun. Being a kid was so much fun.”

No response.

“And the time at the beach back in the 1980’s? The girls were so cute back then. The sunburn was so painful!”

Silence.

“And remember the first time we saw Sandy?  She was gorgeous.  I’ve never seen anyone any prettier in a wedding dress. What a knockout.”

Still nothing but the sound of the respirator.

A nurse came in and checked the patient. She adjusted the amount the morphine drip and reset the beeping machine.  She paid no attention to the man in the chair, punched her iPad and walked back out into the hallway without saying a word.

“Seeing the kids being born. Well, that was worth living for. Seeing them grow up, well that was an even better.”

His words faded into silence.

“Cancer sucks.  It’s a thief. It’s a killer. And it’s a bully.”

No disagreement from the bed.  In fact, there was nothing from the bed.

“Well Buddy, I got to go. It’s been an honor.  But I have to go and meet friends.”

No sound or movement from the bed.

The man in the chair stood up and walked over to man in the bed. He ran his hands across his rubbery forehead and said,  “We had a good life.”

The man in the chair leaned over and kissed the body in the bed. And when he did, alarms went off in the room.  The patient’s spirit looked back at his body one last time and then was gone.