…beep…beep…beep…I can never tell if I have crossed over into the after-life until my conscience
mind starts to hear the trace of the electrocardiograph machine and then I realize that I am still among the living lying here with tubes in every part of my body and I mean every orifice of my poor old body. “How are you feeling this morning?” The question of the day asked by the attending nurse on duty, “Will you turn on the television please?” I mumbled, still groggy from the previous night’s medication. “Here you go, the cable network news” the nurse quipped. We’ve been going through this routine for the past eight months while I’ve been waiting for a new heart from some unfortunate soul whose life has ended so that I may continue mine. I don’t know if it’s morbid or predatory or hopeful; but I watch the news for fatalities; accidental, homicidal, suicidal, whatever, hoping that someone’s tragedy will be my blessing. I’m not wishing for someone to die but I understand that it is part of living except if it’s preventable and in my case it is. I just need a healthy heart from a type “O” person to continue my journey here on earth.
“OH MY GOD!” The nurse shrieked as we both gazed at the image projected by the cathode-ray tube not believing what we were witnessing; a building was on fire, a very tall building was on fire, because it was in a collision, a collision with a large passenger jet-liner. Huh? I quickly glanced at the calendar on the wall to make a mental note of the day, Tuesday the 11th. As we both were glued to the TV a second plane hit another building identical to the first. Buy now the entire hospital seemed to be in one synchronous state of shock as if this were more than just two mere accidents caused by human error. As the saga unfolded it was evident that the U.S. was under attack with numerous casualties of war. I couldn’t help but think of my condition and the prospect of a type “O” organ donor with a healthy heart, a victim of this attack, collateral damage as defined by the administrators of warfare.
(Three days later)…beep…beep…beep…”I’ve got good news for you!” My ears heard a shrill voice by the side of my bed as the thin framed doctor and the dutiful nurse slowly came into focus. “We have a heart for you!” she said with reserved enthusiasm. I’ve always dreamed of this day. I wanted more than anything to hear those words, the only thing I would not give was my first born even though he caused me so much pain at birth and in rearing; but because of his untimely death I had the will to live to see after his daughter my only grandchild and his brother my youngest son. I was determined not to leave before my time, even if just for the good of the kids. Alas God had answered my prayers His divine providence has shined on me once again despite the challenges of my own sins; but first I feel I must pray for the previous soul of my new heart.
“Oh lord I thank you for this opportunity at renewed life. I thank you for this gift that only you could see fit to provide. I pray that I continue to live a right life for you and the one who had this gift of life taken away. I pray that we can share in spirit your blessing”
“Ms. Wright…Ms. Wright…” as she broke me from my spiritual moment, “Ms. Wright I will need to have you sign these documents.” The doctor went on with her garish smile starting to wane. “You see there is a very special case with this particular heart.” But of course, I thought to myself. “This heart is from the recent accident on the 11th" she continued, “Apparently another flight aimed at the White House was diverted and crashed into an open field in Stony Creek Township near Shanksville and a heart survived.” “Oh how terrible!” I remarked somewhat disingenuous.” I will honor the life of that person and would like if at all possible to send my condolences to their family.” I said with as much sincerity as I could muster. “Well, Ms. Wright none of the passengers survived with any usable organs or any of the flight crew or the pilots...” the doctor said with a strange tone. So my mind went racing, if all the passengers died with no usable organs and all the flight attendants and even the pilots too… who was left? Was this truly a miracle of biblical proportion? “Excuse me Ms. Wright…” as the doctor broke me from my dream state again, “I will need your signature here to accept the heart from the hijacker of United Airlines flight 93.”
Note from the Author: The title was inspired by one of my favorite authors Ernest Hemingway. The story was inspired by a report that Israel had been harvesting organs of captured dead Palestinians (without the families consent) for its own citizens. The report raises so many questions, not just ethical questions but also motive and legal queries too. Is Israel’s choice to remove organs and then send the deficient bodies back to Palestine the ultimate shame of war or is the “ultimate shame” to allow preventable deaths of a nation’s citizenry to take place?
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