"I dream of a hard and brutal mysticism in which the naked self merges with the nonhuman world and somehow survives...Paradox and bedrock."-Edward Abbey

20 November 2016

Dead Man Walking

The loco drunk said he was sick, his face ash gray, his countenance that of a dying man. Two former nurses were about, one, saying his pulse was thready and breathing labored. He was refusing help, just wanted a case of water and to go back to his camp, a burned-out trailer up the mountainside.

We debated and agonized on what to do. Since he was refusing help, should we ask for it anyway? They looked up to me, well, because I am six and a half feet tall, how could they not? In the end, I called senpai for advice and he said unto me to call EMS with the disclaimer the loco drunk could refuse treatment. When I told said loco drunk that, he spoke of someone helping him.

"That is exactly what we are doing, Sir," I said as I went to call EMS, my voice reptilian, detached, cold as the airless void between the stars. Hou lain, hei tsin-thick face, black heart-ask Sun Tzu.

They could not even find a blood pressure, and, thus, took him away. My documentation took me back to days as a triage coordinator in the field of transplant. The feeling-more than a feeling-I have is we will be burying someone from our community very soon. I hope I am incorrect.

Here and now, I meditate upon the reptilian...


  1. I think the fact that he came around was a call for help. I'd have done the same. I'd have been a little bitter about it, though. That's my way.

    1. Oh, he fought until the EMS pretty well said; "you're going". The horrible irony was when I got home, I had a tumbler of whiskey.

  2. You had no real choice, ethically. It was his choice to stay or leave once the call was made, and after exam by EMS. Alcohol, chronic use that is, and altitude have poor effects. Congestive failure and cardiomyopathy are the most common, and the pallor etc of your patient suggests that.
    Yes, you may have a burial soon, but it comes to us all, doesn't it?
    Cheers, pal.

    1. Even though he wasn't jaundiced, my first thought was his liver was in fuck this noise! mode. As I think about it, his color was the same as my mother's right before she died.

    2. I'm sorry for the loss of a comrade, member of the population, whatever he was.
      This last year I've been noticing the number of my 'generation' that are making their exit. I've almost stopped watching the news, as in on line newspapers. It's occurred to me that mike me boy, this is that time for you. "...twenty four and there is so much more." Yeah Neil, probably how we all saw it back then in '71.
      Per your advise, and some others, I've kind of stopped looking at what might happen if I croak in 2 years, to what if I live for another 10 plus.
      I do believe Lisbon, or maybe Barcelona might be my next calling stop.
      Cheers, Robbie.

    3. I've not heard of his ultimate fate yet, but that may change in the coming days. My buddy Job says;

      "Every man's death diminishes me."

      The older I get, the more I understand the profundity of that statement...

      I'd say Barcelona, but that's because it's on my list. Travel safe.

  3. You had no real choice, ethically. It was his choice to stay or leave once the call was made, and after exam by EMS. Alcohol,


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