Last Wish

I only want to feel the sun on my face one more time. I realize it’s not much of a wish list, but when you reach 95 things tend to simplify—a lot. I’ve had a rough couple of days. It started when I tripped on that stupid carpet beside the bed, hit my head on the post and passed out. At least that’s what the nurse said when I woke up. Here she is again.

“Hi Laura. The surgery on your hip went pretty well, but the doctor will tell you more when she does her rounds. Don’t worry, we’re hoping to get you completely fixed up soon. I’ll check back a bit later. Okay?”

“Sure thing.” Ha. Nice enough gal, but I’m not an idiot. I could hardly make it out of bed even before this mess, so I’m pretty sure I’m not getting out of here. If I’m honest, I really don’t even want to go back. But nobody wants to hear the truth, do they? Just close my eyes for a sec…

Huh. Now what?

“Hi Laura. I’m Dr. Lang. How’re you feeling?”

Is she kidding? Feels like someone took a baseball bat to my hip, then kicked me in the head.

“Not too bad, I guess.”

“We found some irregularities with your heart that are a bit concerning, so we’d like to run a few more tests to see what’s going on. Would that be okay?”

“Do I have to?”

“Well, we’d hate to have you go home and something happen to bring you back. If there’s anything we can do that’s preventative, it would be much safer.”

Trouble is, nobody wants to hear the truth anymore. I’m old, I’m sick, I’m tired. I’ve had a great life. Now I’m ready to go, or soon anyway, so if it happens it happens.

“Listen Doc. If you don’t mind, I think I’ll pass.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yep. But would you mind helping me over to the window for a minute? Looks like the sun’s finally coming out.”

“Of course.”

“Thanks, Dr. Lang. I’ll be fine now.”