I've never felt so little, so faithless, as my friend lies dying in critical care in downtown. I prayed and I told God, "We love him, let him be with us."
God must be making a decision about this barely 22 year old that cooks and cleans for his folks. He goes under and then he fights to come back.
The shaman says, he's upset with his parents, so hurt that his spirit left, far and beyond. The wandered spirit must be captured and tied down.
And if the spirit stays, he'll recover from his already dying body, with organs failing one by one. His toes are dried and lifeless. You can tell that
circulation is poor. What a poor baby, just 22, suffering in such a condition. He's hardly awake now.
Last night, the medical staff wouldn't allow any visitors, even me, his dear friend. I remembered how we'd talk, we'd talked so much. He would
share his ambition of becoming a chef, aspirations from all the cooking he does for the family. He'd shared opinions about the family. It was
especially difficult to deal with a house hold of growing males; everyone had his own opinion. His father didn't make things easier either, always
demanding, condescending. He dealt it best he knew how; he eventually minded less about the family issues, and shared about it less. We'd have
talks about girls too. But he didn't care for one, always having his hobbies on his mind. But everything seems so far from grasp now, the ambition,
the hobbies, the dream, even the family issues, are all far from reach now. Poor baby, he just lies motionless, relying on tubes and needles to survive.
A decision was made last night. Such a decision is especially difficult to make but it was done. Only his mother disagreed to unplug him. He's incubated,
dependent on machines and medication to live. But poor mother can't see her child go; it's too hard to bury your own child. And she wailed and wailed.
But poor boy, his organs are shutting down, one by one, multiple strokes, two heart attacks in one night, multiple seizures, brain lesions, how much should he endure?
We, who all love him, sit and wait with all the hope we have left in our tormented hearts can only prepare for the worse. If he pulls through, he'll
be a vegetable. How fair is that to the poor boy? How selfish will we get to just have him with us, even as a vegetable? This is so tormenting that somewhere,
in our heart, we subconsciously want this to end, no matter what the turn out is.
Lord, please be with him and his family.