Guest Post by Archaeopteryx Phoenix
My father is lying in front of me, dying.
He was a Dartmouth, UVM medical school graduate, army doctor, head of internal medicine at a large hospital, self-taught furniture maker, self-taught sailor and yachtsman, consummate craftsman, maker of model ships and cars, meticulous in his upkeep and maintenance of his tools, cars, tractor, and home.
He no longer is eating and has been without food for over a week. He sips water and sucks on small sponges dipped in ice water. His only intake is the liquid methadone every 6 hours and liquid morphine as needed for the agonizing pain he experiences when he moves his left leg or arm. Imagine watching a person waste away in front of you, the weight falling off them until they look like a Union soldier in the Andersonville prison camp. And imagine that this person still has their full mental faculties, even as the methadone places their mind in a waking dream state.
Continue reading “FAREWELL TO A GREAT MAN”
