GinaFish.com

I don’t think she reads this blog, but if you do. Love ya!

Changing the channels in my brain….if you don’t want to read something morbid, stop here.

I was reading yesterday’s news about the miner who finally left the hospital. He was the sole survivor and was in a coma for a long time. They had to fix his organs before they could concentrate on his brain. He woke up 6 weeks ago, and got to leave yesterday. First off, six weeks in a hospital would suck. The max I’ve spent is a week, and I was REady to leave.

Then there was also an article about the journalist released from captivity. Held hostage but treated decently, she still had no idea where she was, who was holding her, why, or anything.

So which is worse. Knowing you are being held captive or being held captive by your body in a coma for months, yet not being aware of it. Surely being held captive is worse psychologically on you and your loved ones. At least in a coma, your family knows where you are. But then they are responsible for all the decisions regarding your well-being. In captivity, the captors are in control, and the family is totally out of the loop.

So in the event, that I ever go into a coma, I’m going to spell it all out for my family, right here, right now.

If the doctors put me in a coma, to heal my body, that’s okay. If I go into a coma naturally, and have to be put on a respirator, that’s not okay. No respirator unless the doctors can guarantee that it will be removed within a month. Any longer than a month is too long for my family to suffer and wait. Mkay?

While in a coma, get me some books on tape to listen to. You are under too much stress to try to talk to me, and I don’t want to hear bad news while I’m conscious, nor when I’m unconscious. Give us a break, and let me listen to Disney movies, or romance novels. Pure Trash, garbage, nothing scary. Thanks.

If I die healthy, give all my organs away. I don’t need them anymore and someone else does. Maybe. I can hope. Whatever is left over, burn. Cremate. Donate to a medical school. Whatever. Understand this - it was my body, not yours, and I don’t need it any more. Have ashes left over? Don’t save them. Throw them to the wind. Whatever makes the family feel good. Just don’t bury them okay? That’s silly.

Now, go order me a tombstone anyway, with relevant information only, no flowery quotes or nothing. You wouldn’t pick the right one. Put the tombstone in a cemetery. If Josh still wants to be buried, somewhere beside him.

Okay, enough information for ya? Have you thought about this stuff? A living will? I don’t know that I’m particularly morbid for a 35 year old, but I’ve been thinking about this kind of stuff for a long long time. After all, there are only two guarantees in life: birth and death.