chapter 8
chapter 8
I watched the buttons light up for each floor I went down, it was like time slowed as I watched the
numbers tick down. I was nervous, impatient, and trying to hold all my pieces together, Sally’s voice
going through my mind on repeat, repeating the words that I felt would stop my heart from beating.
Only there it was still thumping painfully in my chest.
When the elevator doors opened on the bottom floor, I took off running, my shoulder smashing into Property © NôvelDrama.Org.
the elevator door having not had enough time to open completely on my way out. The hospital wasn’t
far, and I made it there in under five minutes. My heels slid on the floor outside my mother’s ward door
as I gripped the door handle and walked in.
The ward was full of doctors moving other patients out. Sally stood amongst them, her green
scrubs standing out amongst the doctors in their white coats. Sally was looking at the clock, probably
wondering if I was going to get here in time. Seeing me, she came rushing over and wrapped her arms
around me. “I’m so sorry, Imogen.”
I nodded, watching as another patient was wheeled out and transferred to another room, leaving
only my mother, a doctor, Sally, and myself.
The doctor was an older woman in her fifties. She had greying hair that reached her shoulders,
pulled back with a clip, kind soft brown eyes, and pale complexion. She was wearing a doctor’s coat
and white scrubs. Her name tag read Laurel.
“Hi, you must be Imogen?” she said, reaching out and grasping my hand softly between hers.
“The Medical Ethics Board has decided to remove your mother from life support. In doing so I will
just prepare you for what will happen next.” I stared at her, my face completely blank. I think I was in
shock, but at the same time I understood everything she said, even nodded a few times.
When she was done, she asked If I wanted some time alone with my mother. I nodded my head
and they both walked out, leaving me alone with her. I walked slowly over to her bed and held onto her
hand. Looking down at her, she looked like she was just sleeping, her face was slack with the tube
hanging out of it keeping her breathing. I stroked her hair gently.
“Mumma, it’s me, your Immy. They have decided to turn your life support off.” I stared at her,
hoping for some miracle. But there was none. I could hear Sally and the doctor talking softly outside the
door. None of this felt real.
“If you can hear me, mum, please know I’m sorry. I tried; I really did. I love you Mumma, but I have
to let you go.”
The time had come. I was preparing myself for this but why didn’t I feel like I prepared at all. I
didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know what to say to her now that this was goodbye. So instead, I just
held her hand, rubbing circles into her soft skin. The doctor walked in with Sally. I looked up when they
entered, Sally looked heartbroken for me and I turned away from her. I couldn’t handle seeing the
sadness in her eyes.
I knew once I let myself cry, I would never stop. So instead, I took a deep breath and closed my
eyes, telling myself I could do this, hardening my resolve. The doctor asked me to step out so she
could remove the tubes and switch everything off. I shook my head at her.
When she pulled the tube out of her throat, my mother made a gurgling noise and started gasping,
but the doctor said it was the body’s normal reaction. I squeezed my mothers’ hand tighter, trying to
ignore the noises her body was making. The doctor then unhooked all the machines that had now
started beeping loudly.
When she was done, she squeezed my shoulder tightly before walking over to the side. The doctor
said my mother could last a few hours or go quickly. Mum went quickly. Her breathing slowed, her lips
started to turn blue, her body even convulsed, making me jump to my feet. I wrapped my arms around
her neck pressing my head to hers.
“It’s alright, Mumma. I’m right here, I’m right here,” I told her. After a few seconds, it stopped and
so did her breathing. Her chest no longer rose up and down. The room went silent, the only noise was
my heavy breathing. I lifted my head from hers, Mum’s skin went dull and lifeless, and her hand lost its
warmth. I knew she was gone. The doctor walked over and placed a stethoscope on her chest and
listened before nodding, confirming her heart was no longer beating.
I stared at my mother’s dead body lying on the gurney, she was gone. I would never hear her voice
again, never hold her again. I couldn’t handle it anymore. Getting up, I pulled the blanket up, tucking
her in as if she were asleep and I was saying good night instead of goodbye. I leaned down and kissed
her head. My lips quivered and my eyes burned with tears that wanted to fall.