Life Changed The Day A Man Died Beside Me

I would think that in life, many people’s idea of a dream life they hope to live is a glamorous one, having their personal chauffeurs, private jets and again, the fast cars and big houses. Their perfect day may include much of the above. When I was younger, I used to think that was what I was aiming for too, it would make me feel powerful, wouldn’t it? Yes, it did felt to be that way at that time. But my concept and view of life changed the day someone died beside me.

The Man who died beside me

I was admitted to the hospital a few times before in my life, the major ones were for an operation and back injuries which I suffered after being injured in a military exercise while training in the Air Force. In each of these cases, I was to be placed under observation in the hospital ward for a few days until my situation stabilized and the reports were out.

There was once when I was placed in a ward of eight where seven of the beds were occupied, including mine. One empty, two taken by men who seem to be in their eighties who are unable to talk or walk, one with a cast around his leg, another with a cast around his neck and the last one, who was beside me, was unable to do anything at all. The man who looked like he was in his seventies, was just laying there, coughing occasionally and when he coughed really hard, the nurses would rush in and clear the phlegm out of his throat.

We didn’t know each other and we didn’t even look each other in the eye, but I felt sorry for his plight. I didn’t know how he felt because…he only coughed…but I think it was painful through the way he coughed.

His family visited him on the first day, I only assumed that they are his son, daughter and wife through the way they addressed him and the look in their eyes when they do so. Sadness. Some people can fake sadness when they aren’t really sad but…the times when people are truly sad and tears flow freely…I would think that kind of atmosphere can’t be faked. I can’t explain why, we just know it. Perhaps we are all linked after all, one way or another.

The first night, I woke up slightly with dreamy eyes just to catch a peek of the nurses pushing the bedridden man on a wheelchair to the restroom. I think I saw drips of brown liquid dripping off the wheelchair as they moved. I closed my eyes and slept.

The second night, I woke up again but this time because of loud noises beside my bed. I turned around and what I saw left me dumbfounded. There were doctors and nurses around the bed of "he who coughed" (for lack of a name to address him by) trying to save the patient. He was still alive, though the screens were covered, I could still see him coughing through a slight gap between the thin sheets of the white screens and I could also hear the "beeping" machine. The machine which beeped when there are still signs of life. They struggled to get him back, giving him electric pulses through the chest from which he flew straight up from his bed into the air with each jolt. I didn’t know what to say, what to do to help, I felt helpless…

Then silence…there were no more beeps, there was no more coughs…the doctors moved out and the white sheet went over the patient’s face…I then knew he was no longer with us. The next few minutes that followed would stay in my mind forever, the patient was being placed in some coffin like "box" and just after that, the patient’s family rushed into the ward and cried…I never heard anyone cried like that ever before…they were screams of agony more than simple wisps of crying…they wanted him back…but he was gone…

That experience changed my life forever.

It taught me, not through words or any theory set by any intelligent people in history, but by first hand experience. I just witnessed a person who was alive, people trying to save him, but he still died…I just witnessed a life gone by…just like that. A life was gone just like that…you know what creeps me out?

It could have been me and the World would not have changed much after my death, the day the man died, nothing changed much…the nurses delivered the food and medicine on time just like any other day, many of the other patients in the ward just went on their daily lives, they didn’t mentioned anything about the man to their visitors who just died the night before…what was scary was that everything just went on just as per normal…wasn’t…wasn’t the World supposed to crumble and filled with sadness and a hell lot of commotion when a person just died…for goodness sake, he didn’t just die just like that, he SUFFERED when he died, I think he choked to death on his own phlegm that he produced on his own! Maybe if I woke up earlier, I could have detected his coughs and informed the nurses to come earlier to save him..maybe..maybe…then I realized…life is not a game, it does not have a save and load function…if you lose the game of life, the game goes on with or without you…you are just part of the game, I am just part of the game…I wasn’t used to the thought that life was that fragile.

When I wake up, I expect to be still living…I took life for granted.

Life changed.

I took life more seriously from then on, I wanted to create a life that matters. Not so much that people would remember me after I am gone, but I hope that what I do in my life would help others live stronger and better. I want to help as many people as possible to live a meaningful and fruitful life rather than living day to day meaninglessly and without purpose rather than the purpose of reproduction as all animals do, as we all have seen so many people seem to do…they do the things that doesn’t matter….

…when my family came to visit me that day, it was a different feeling…I felt blessed.

How a Perfect Day would be like

I once read a book about how the author who is a successful eBay entrepreneur described his lifestyle, he wakes up, take a smoke, brush his teeth, walk his dog to the nearest Starbucks, take a smoke, go home, read his emails, do some work and take a smoke again.meet with friends who keep complaining about their jobs, go back home to work a while, meet up with his friends for a 2 hour lunch break, smokes more in between, go back home play his video games or watch TV until evening, go to dinner with another friend to hear them complaining about their jobs…that’s it.

That’s his perfect day.

I think he might have got his inspiration from Morrie in the book, " Tuesdays with Morrie ."

Morrie described his perfect day as one which he wakes up in the morning, do his exercises, have a lovely breakfast, have some friends come over for a nice lunch to talk about their families, their issues and also talk about how much they mean to each other.

Then he’ll like to go for a walk and take in the nature, in the evening he will go to a restaurant with great food and dance the rest of the night, with all the wonderful dance partners out there, until he was exhausted. Which at that time, he would go home and have a deep, wonderful sleep.

That was his idea of a perfect day.

The thing was that, Morrie suffered from a terminal disease called ALS and he was bedridden at that time of describing his perfect day. He died a few weeks after.

My Perfect Day

My perfect day as I can imagine now, would be to wake up in the morning, have breakfast and discuss what happened around the world after reading the morning newspaper, then I’ll go for a nice cool swim and think, just think, come home, rest a while, then go to have a game of tennis with my Dad. After a nice refreshing bath, we join the rest of our family for lunch at a nice cosy restaurant where we chat and joke around like we always do…in the afternoon, I will do my work, do some research and write some works for projects which I hope to help others and the world, like climate change and global warming, cryonics and nano-technology…and also organize more groups to work together,  to do things one person can’t possibly do all in one lifetime, to have the greatest and most aspiring people and talents around the world gather together in groups online to make once seemingly impossible things, possible. About five, I’ll have a tea break with my friends and just have a laugh over coffee, talking about life and other friends, jokes rather than work.

I have realized in my years of living that although I may be a recognised researcher who have awards to prove for my usefulness in society, I am still one person, I am obviously not a born genius, I worked hard for my achievements, I stand firm to my goals, I as one person is never enough to do whatever the World needs in my single life…I am a single sand on the beach…alone, I cannot create sand-castles…Once I was proud and thought I could do everything alone, only when I was taught to become humble did the biggest achievements start to come in.

The greatest thing about being humble was one thing I discovered about myself, I was happy when I accomplished things alone and I celebrated alone, happy for myself but no one else could feel it, I was much happier when I accomplished things together with people, we celebrated together and feel happy for each other.

Then in the evening, I would have dinner with my family again but this time at home with home-cooked food which my parents and I cooked together, talk about how the day has been while watching TV dramas until just before midnight and when everyone turned in for the night, I would be here, typing on my laptop, reading my books and journals and sharing my experience of life with people who care to hear. Like you. *Smiles* Thank you my friend for reading. It would be great to hear from you if you have a story to share too.