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ON My DEATHBED

Ken Buerger

It's the year 2075 and at this mo- with sweat, the whites of you eyes

ment, I'm on my deathbed. masked by the ghostly pale com-

Surprisingly, I don't have any plexion of you tear-stained face.

complications about dying, which is And your mouth, that sight still

strange because I have feared death haunts me to this very day. Your

all my life. And yet, as my EKG lips, teeth, and neck were covered

counts down my last heartbeat, my in dark, red blood. You were trem-

only complaint is that I didn't die bling from head to foot and began

earlier. to stammer something whey your

Don't get me wrong. I've led an body was seized by a fit of violent

extraordinary life, and I've loved coughing. You turned back to the

just about all of it. I have had a suc- sink as liberal amounts of black-

cessful career, children, grandchil- ish-red globs splattered against the

dren and I have a great-grandchild white porcelain.

on the way. I'm wealthy, educated, Panicking, I scrambled back to

and I was happy. And then you the bedroom and grabbed the tele-

die. phone. I dialed 9-1-1 and watched

as you collapsed onto the floor, tears

May 4, 2061: At four in the flowing freely from you face. As we

morning, I awoke to sounds coming waited for the ambulance, I sat with

from the bathroom. I turned left to you, crying and hugging you.

wake you, but my hand hit only a God, don't do this to me,

damp pillow. I turned on the light please.

and saw my hand covered in blood.

I climbed out of bed and rushed to May 6, 2061: I helped you out

the doorway, where I saw you, my of the truck in the parking lot of

Wifeof 46 years huddled around the the Mayo Clinic in Rochester, Min-

sink, crying. nesota, the leading cancer research

"Baby, what's wrong?" I asked. center in the world. Thankfully,

You turned around and I near- the coughing fits had been kept to

ly fainted. You hair was mated a minimum since that fateful night.

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