I came back to feed the cat………

I died last night.

Technically.

Actually my heart stopped long enough to assure me that it’s not all dust and ashes when your spirit/essence leaves your body. One minute I was driving through exasperating traffic and the next minute some young medic was sticking a needle in my arm and telling me to breathe. (As if it was a particular choice of mine not to…….breathe……that is). I have a vague recollection of being whooshed along on a bumpy trolley and seeing a lot of strip lights and then being heaved on to a gurney somewhere along the line. That’s all I remember until I felt this whooshing feeling and I was kindof plucked from my body with a small popping sound.
And there I was, hovering about looking down on my poor old body which was being hacked to pieces from the looks of it by some axe wielding maniac, I assumed. He had a huge bald patch on the back of his head and was wielding a stryker saw with relish as he broke open my chest. Someone shouted ‘CLEAR!’ and the old paddles came in to view. I seemed to bounce up off the table, blood spurted everywhere and splashed everyone, but the blue line was still flat and the noise was still a one liner.
Strangely I didn’t feel any pain, in fact, I felt very little of anything – kind of numb really – just floating. No effort required. I felt nice actually. Pleasant, tingly, warm, relaxed. Like being in a warm bath.
And then I began to think about what I complete mess I had left behind for some poor soul to clear up. My will, for a start, would never be found – I had put it safely in the biscuit tin at the back of the Hula Hoops in the Tea Cupboard. Well it’s not the sort of thing you leave out for stray visitors to peruse is it?
I’d left a string of washing on the line – none of it my best stuff either….
Pots in the sink, tea bag stains on the drainer, dishwasher full, cat litter on the mat…..my god, it never ends.
3 letters still needed posting – and I hadn’t opened this mornings post either!
The Gas bill was lying around somewhere – one good thing – I wouldn’t be paying that in a hurry!
Lord, the things that began to come to light as I mentally roamed my untidy life.
I remembered a pair of pyjama bottoms stuffed down the bottom of the bed after unplanned lovemaking the night before, and, oh shame, there was bound to be a condom or two on the carpet on the other side of the bed for someone to gossip about. Why do men always leave them for YOU to tread on, discover, and/or remove. Dreadfully bad habit but not something I really ever thought to do anything about before now (our relationship was still fresh enough that I didn’t like to nag). This led me to wondering if I had clean underwear on as my mother had always drilled it in to me that if u went out in dirty underwear I was sure to have an accident at some point. I hated it when she was proved right. I could see her now, sucking in her cheeks, raising her eyebrows and nodding infuriatingly.
At this point, I discovered I didn’t have ANY underwear on, underneath my track suit bottoms, not that it mattered as I was splattered in blood and half my clothes were now torn anyway. But, still, if I had known………I surely would have made an effort – perhaps the dark blue lace ……but I digress.
Oh, the indignity of death. [The not being prepared for it all]. Dreadfully inconvenient way to go like this, I remember thinking vaguely, trudging through the last few hours of my life with more care this second time around.
I’d left the heating on. I should have changed the sheets really. I had a chiropody appointment that wasn’t going to be cancelled. I so hate wasting people’s time like that. And worst of all, I hadn’t fed the cat.
I couldn’t bear the thought of her meowing sadly in the middle of the kitchen and sitting there like Billy No-Mates, wondering why she was so hungry and no one had come to feed her. No, that wouldn’t do. It just wouldn’t. I had to go home and PREPARE for my death…I couldn’t just abandon life like this, leaving it so untidy and so messy. I was aware of a pulling feeling and a bright light sucking me away and it was at this point I felt I had the choice. To go, or to remain. What a choice. I knew instinctively that going would be a huge adventure, and, yet, I couldn’t purge the image from my mind of the cat, and the pyjama bottoms and my washing billowing about on the line.
To this day, I’m sure I made my own decision to remain. Instantly I felt another whooshing feeling and another plop. Everything went black.
“Come on dear, wake up now, you’re back with the living….that’s, it, cough it up”
I opened my eyes and was dimly aware of about half a dozen people hanging over me concernedly, someone was patting my hand and someone else was holding a Styrofoam basin in my face as I coughed up the remains of my anaesthetic.
I looked up and said groggily “I have to feed my cat, you know”.

I came back to feed the cat………

Gortsmum

Canterbury, United Kingdom

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Artist's Description

Operating table drama

Artwork Comments

  • Arcadia Tempest
  • Teacup
  • Gortsmum
desktop tablet-landscape content-width tablet-portrait workstream-4-across phone-landscape phone-portrait
desktop tablet-landscape content-width tablet-portrait workstream-4-across phone-landscape phone-portrait

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