Ask Renee

Ask Renee



“Death can be delayed but not denied.”

The doctor sat back, satisfied with his statement and waited for my response. I stared at him, furious at how easily he could dismiss a person’s life. The walls behind him were a testament to his own. Framed photographs featured the doc, smiling in various settings. In one, he was posed with the college tennis team, another had him in cap and gown, waving a diploma and in another he was posed with a pretty lady against the backdrop of a tropical sea. The diplomas were arrayed in a straight line above the photos. I counted seven.

“How old are you, doc?”

“Twenty eight.”

“Well, I’m impressed,” I swept my hand to take in the room. “When Renee and I were twenty eight, we were living in a single wide trailer with two babies. I worked two jobs to pay the rent and buy groceries while Renee kept house. It was hard but she never complained or wanted to quit. Somehow, it doesn’t seem right for you to waltz in here and tell me to sign a piece of paper and just walk away!”

“Really, Mr. Jones, I understand that you’re vulnerable right now but we need to remain calm.”

“I am calm and you don’t understand shit!” I shouted and pounded his desk. “Don’t sit there in your fancy chair and try to pretend to understand what you’re asking of me.”

The door cracked and an anxious nurse peeped around the edge. “Is everything all right?”

The doc and I stared at each other. I could hear the blood, pounding in my ears and realized that I was gripping the edge of his desk. I eased my hands back and melted into the chair. The Doctor looked at me a beat longer and swiveled to face his nurse.

“We’re fine, Shelia.”

She took a last look at me and closed the door. The Doctor swiveled back and placed his hands on the desk.

“We have excellent counselors here if you need to talk to someone,” he said.

“No. I figure this is between you and me. I sign the paper and you pull the plug. Right?”

“Yes.”

“Ah…shit,” I breathed, my throat going tight and hurting. “What if it’s too soon? I mean, people come out of comas without any warning, you know? Another thing, how do we know she can’t hear us? I sit and read to her every day and talk about our plans. We decided to do a cruise this summer. She’s pretty excited about that.”

“Mr. Jones…I’m sorry but your wife has no discernable brain activity. The tumor is too large and the damage, extreme. I’m surprised she didn’t seek medical help sooner, considering the pain.”

“Like I said, she wasn’t one to complain.”

The Doctor nodded. “Perhaps you’d like to consult with your family and give the matter some thought.”

“No.”

“Well…what are you going to do?”

I paused at the door and looked at him. “Ask Renee.”