Mr. Collins rolls onto the left side of his body, mild, discomforting throbbing occupies his chest.
Hopeful the pain will fade, he forces both his eyelids shut. A sudden jolt abruptly wakes him up. It feels as if a twelve thousand pound elephant hammers down, closing in on his chest.
As the giant mammoth paces back and forth, his body deliberately responses by grasping air through violent coughs. He pushes his full weight as he rolls hastily off the memory foam mattress, grasping for a cold glass of water with his grotesquely bluish hands to wash down the pains.
Stumbling into the living room he’s finally allowed a single breath of relief. A glass shatters on the freshly shined Italian marble tile. Pitch-black darkness diminishes his sight to only shadows.
…
The added feeling of nausea overwhelms his senses. A sharp fragment pierces the skin beneath his staggering legs as increasing tightness rapidly began to shut in on his searing chest. In haste, he begins to recall the previous occurrence of a vivid yet familiar encounter he has once had of such sort.
His right hand now reaches out to clench his chest as his left attempts to stabilize his weight by lying flat on the chilly stone counted. Argh! Darling…Help! I think I’m having another…attack!
He breathlessly wails as the sharp pain forces his fragile frame to slam on the polished oak. Alone, she ponders in the waiting room, staring blankly into the beige walls. Helplessly praying, the light isn’t fading and Mrs. Collins is only trying to hide the shock and chill in her bones.
They took him away on a table and she paces back and forth as he lays still. While all of this is happening she watches them pulling Mr Collins in to feel his heartbeat.
Enough with the tension that has been built up, Mrs Collins sits herself down on a cold chair and begins twisting the ring which is wrapped around her fourth finger reminiscing the promises it holds — to spend an eternity with him.
…
A thousand thoughts swamp her head with distractions but only one of real significance. While she waiting in the dark chilling waiting room of the hospital, the thoughts began to overtake her mind of which some where absolutely ridiculous.
They consisted of thoughts like who will light the fire upon the arrival of winter the next month or who will fix the half loosened hinge of the door to the pantry. After what seemed to be decades of solitary patience, a slender man in a white lab coat approaches her.
“Mrs. Collins, I have an update on your husband’s condition, if you may follow me please.” The man’s vaguely gestures, mimicking routine. She cringes at the thought of her second halves fate that sits in a stranger’s left hand.
The physician gestures down the plain corridor and the silence screams a high pitched chill down through her spine. Like clockwork, he shuts the door to deliver his findings writer in one of the many ordinary reports his file contained…
Beep…beep…. beep –beep, an inconsistent heart rate; not a good sign. Collins stirs from his slumber only to find an imminent nightmare has woken into. A familiar shadow appears in the corner of the suite by the minibar.
“Hey you’re up.” The wife swallows her tears mustering her strength to stall a breakdown. “How are you feelings dear? She asks gently setting the plastic cup with a straw on the table and caresses his bluish-purple hand. He grunts, pursuing to communicate: “it…. it hurts!”.
The wife swiftly grasps hold of the cup of water and moves the straw towards Collins mouth. “What happened, where I am?” “You’re at the hospital dear. You suffered another heart attack and stroke this morning.” She regretfully informs him the information from the doctor bearing the harsh truth for the first time.
“The doctor says your condition is too severe to assist and at this age having a surgery is too risky”. She wipes her tears taking a pause. She then plasters on a little smile telling him not to worry about her and also informs Collins that their daughters are flying back tonight and they will take care when he’s gone.
…
Mrs. Collins strokes his hands grasping memories that seem as they were created only yesterday. She began to recall his attempt humor her for attention in a little corner café away from her apartment, the ceremony where they sealed their vows with a new shiny ring.
The first place they called home, news of expecting a baby girl, waving her off to preschool, finding Mr. Collins first grey hair and then her own, attending their own first daughters graduation and then wedding off their children.
It went on with the flashbacks of the two of them celebrating their blessings on a 3 month cruise and also remembering how they were happily holding their new born grandsons and granddaughters’ just months ago.
The sound of the unrhythmic ECG machine instantly brings them back to the harsh reality which reminds them how these memories cannot be relived. The beats now begin to slowdown and being even more irregular.
Mr. and Mrs. Collins now look at each other hearing these sounds piercing their ears and hearts. Mrs. Collins breaks down and whimpers “I love you” before she places a kiss on her husband’s forehead just before she falls into tranquility, she catches a reply that will leave a mark forever in the heart and mind of Mrs. Collins.
“I love you too,” her beloved murmurs and as soon as he is done saying this, the machine parallel to Mr. Collins begins to beep a loud and steady beep marking a straight line. Mrs. Collins now knows it’s all over and just before her heart can allow her to react or let it all out, she quietly lays her head against Mr. Collins chest and gives up on life over the same case as Mr. Collins.
The two end up dying in the same bed, not having to grieve for each other loss.
—
This post was previously published on medium.com.
***
All Premium Members get to view The Good Men Project with NO ADS. Need more info? A complete list of benefits is here.
 |
 |
 |
 |
—–
Photo credit: Anthony Tran on Unsplash
