According to the records, she had actually been declared "deceased" for just short of two minutes. I had always heard that when people make that sort of transition and live to tell about it, they generally come about gasping, like they had been held down underwater by the ankles like we used to do as children. Not Becca; she simply rested her hand on the leg of the paramedic leaning over her in defeat and smiled that grin that could cure cancer. Those smiles were always when I'd feel so deeply in love with her, because they were equally at home after we made love as they were when we were so poor that we pretended our bubbling stomachs were our first-born twin children.
All this-- the whole "being dead" thing-- I had gathered from the nurse as she adjusted the pillows, checked the drips, so on and so forth. Becca was out: the doctor made an indication to the effect that she wasn't necessarily in a coma, just that she would probably like some sleep. I wanted more than anything to get physical with him while he let loose so many acronyms and medical jargon; I wanted to grab him by the shoulders and shake him like a sieve to get all the little ingots out of the spew. It was as though, even unconscious and dreaming of who knows what, she was there behind me with her arms around my waist and her cheek resting between my shoulder blades. She always had a way of calming me down when situations got too hot.
Soon it was simply her and me, feeling all the more alone because of the machines keeping her alive. I made a game out of figuring out which did what: one was to keep her heart beating, another dripped fluids to keep her numb, and I suppose the others were simply there to annoy me to death with their beeping. I really hoped the heart machine wouldn't fail; sometimes it feels as though my heart wouldn't work if hers didn't as well, and the pressure of keeping two hearts beating in time may just be too much for one little machine. She would have laughed to hear that, but I never minded, because it was followed by a secret little smile she gave to keep from blushing.
25 January 2008
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