Hard to Die

Light was still making its way through his eyelids when they were shut. The sunlight hitting his skin made just the top layer of it warm, not truly sinking in to warm all of him. But he took this as a good sign. It meant he was still alive.

He opened his eyes and blinked a few times. The light was strong today, and the sky blue with just a few white, wispy clouds drifting lazily overhead. A perfect day. A day that he would have taken for granted so many times in the past without a single thought. But now as he sat there in his hospital bed, looking out onto the sunny field, he wished more than anything he could rewind time and go back to when he could go outside an enjoy that field.

He sighed and attempted to lift his arm to run his fingers through his hair (a life-long habit), but found he didn’t even have the strength to get his hand a few inches off the bed. This sickness was really draining him.

It seemed like everyone thought they were invincible to lung cancer, even the damn smokers. If you just stay away from the cancer sticks, then you should be alright, right? Well, that philosophy sure didn’t apply to him, Luther Wykoff, who now sat in the hospital dying of it. His “expiration date” was approaching soon, and his wife had moved him into this blanch-white room that just seemed to taunt him. The view was especially torturous, seeming to sing, “Look at what you could be doing, this is what you took for granted and now you can’t enjoy it at all.”

Closer to the hospital, the golden grass was shorter, and it seemed a popular spot to play football. He had watched several matches between some local boys, which provided an hour or two of entertainment when the programs on TV got stale. At the moment, there was a father and son throwing a ball around, the boy missing the catch every other time. He looked young, maybe between five and seven at the most.

As Luther watched the duo, it seemed like then time decided to reverse itself, and he saw his father throwing a battered football to a young Luther, back and forth, back and forth. Luther closed his eyes, squeezing them as tight shut as he could muster. No, he couldn’t start the flashbacks again. He was scared to flashback, because they say your life flashes before your eyes when you die. Luther knew that death was calling, almost touching him, and he was torn between wanting to go and wanting to stay. If he just died, it would be easier on him and on his family’s wallets. He would be out of his pain, and then hospital bills would stop. But then he would be gone, and he would never see his family again. No one knew what happened after death, and he was scared to find out.

But maybe he would see someone after he died. Luther did believe in Heaven, and he dreamt about being reunited with his late father. He had passed away when Luther was in college, and it hit Luther hard. His father was someone who had pushed him to play sports, pushed him to a college where he could play for a good football team, and pushed him to go pro. But the day Luther’s father died was the day that dream died, and Luther vowed never to play again. Instead, he finished out the college year, graduated, and went to work mining for iron ore.

Hence the lung cancer.

Luther started coughing again, like he had been for a long time since the cancer had spread to both his lungs. But this attack seemed worse, and there was soon a trail of blood dripping out the corner of his mouth and globs of blood flying out of his mouth along with the spit and mucus. His lungs were burning, feeling as if he was coughing up bits and chunks of his organs. Luther felt the tubes in his nose helping him breathe try and dislodge themselves. Coughing and hacking up more blood, he made to stretch over and hit the nurse call button, and the first few tries ended in failure with the tips of his fingers just brushing the button, but on the fifth try he hit it. Energy drained, his arm fell limp and he kept practically vomiting blood. A nurse rushed in moments later, and called a doctor. Everything was getting fuzzy for Luther when the doctor came in, saying uncomprehendable things. The last thing he made out before he passed out was the nurse injecting some drug into his IV with a needle.

-

Luther strode across a familiar beach in southern California, his body young, rejuvenated, and cancer-free. This was a familiar memory to him, and he walked in ease through the sand. It was the last vacation he took with his family before the sickness had struck.

On a towel by the low surf sat a woman and child, both young as well. The woman was hardly twenty two, and the little girl, around two. Luther called out to them. “Sorry that took so long, Natalie,” he said as he approached.

“Did you find any floaties?” Natalie asked, tucking a long brown curl behind her ear.

“No, they were all out,” Luther said in defeat, taking the last little space on the towel and kissed his wife on the cheek. Natalie sighed.

“I knew there was something I had forgotten to pack when we left. I always do.”

“At least it was just that and not, say, your credit card or something,” Luther joked.

“Da—Daddy!” said the little girl, reaching her arms out to him. Luther picked her up and set her in his lap.

“Hello little Madelyn! You want to go see something that Daddy saw on the way out?” he asked, making his daughter’s hazel eyes fill with wonder. She nodded, and he stood and picked her up. Natalie stood as well, and Luther’s free hand intertwined with her hand. They set off across the beach towards the rocky cliff Luther had passed on his trip into town.

The three of them made it to the rocks without any trouble at all. It was a quiet day at the beach, and since the tide was out anyways, there wasn’t anyone here except for them and another small family. “What’s over here?” Natalie asked, eyebrows raised.

“This,” replied Luther, setting Madelyn down standing on a rock. She squealed in delight when she saw that on the other side of the rocks was a small tide pool. There were a few fish, and some sea urchins, but most of the space was taken up by starfish of all sizes and colours.

“Oh wow,” Natalie said softly, letting go of her husband’s hand and leaning over the low rocks to get a better look. Luther wrapped his arm around Madelyn’s waist and laid her down so she could reach out and touch the starfish.

“What kind of fish is that Madelyn?” he asked her, reaching in to feel the boney fish too.

“Sta fi!” she said happily, her small fingers running over a golden one.

“That’s right, a star fish!”

-

Luther came back to conscience to hear the murmur of the doctor talking to someone.

“…it was the worst we’ve seen out of him. His lungs are deteriorating faster than we anticipated.”

“How much longer does he have?”

The replying voice was his wife, Natalie, and it was calm to most ears, but he could tell it was full of stress.

“Two weeks max, but it’ll be painful. That breathing tube is just about the only thing keeping him alive.”

There was a moment of silence, and then she asked, “What can we do for him?”

“Nothing much. Drugs won’t do anything for him.”

“Surely there’s something.”

“Well, there is, but… you won’t like it.”

“Tell me,” Natalie said sharply. She never was one for word games, and for sugarcoating the truth to spare feelings.

“We could induce a coma. He wouldn’t be in pain, but he would never wake up from it.”

“Is that even legal?”

“With your consent, I can make it happen.”

Natalie sighed. “I’ll think it over. Now, I’d like to be alone with my husband, thank you.”

“Alright ma’am, I await your decision.”

The sound of the doctor leaving was followed by some silence, and then Natalie’s warm hand took his cold one.

“Sweetheart, are you awake?”

“Uhh,” Luther grunted. “Yeah.”

“Did you hear any of that?”

“Most of it,” he said, opening his eyes a bit to see a fuzzy version of her face. He could see the worry all over it.

“They told me what happened. I really wish we had caught this sooner.”

“Me too dear.” He took a moment for a wave of pain to pass. “How’s Madelyn?”

Natalie’s now clear face was grim. “Not good. She took the news hard.”

“Will you bring her by some time?”

“Sure, I’ll take her out of school tomorrow.”

Silence overtook them again as Natalie stroked the back of his hand gently.

“So, what do you want to do?”

“Two weeks, hmm? I don’t know.”

It was true. It was the sort of decision he’d been thinking about for a while now.

“I don’t want you to suffer,” she said softly.

“A bit late for that, but I know what you mean,” Luther said, managing a tiny bit of a smile. She didn’t return it, and he sighed. “How would you feel if I accepted the offer?”

She looked at him in a bit of surprise. “I—would you really do that?”

“Just sitting here in the hospital, it—”

He went back into a small coughing fit, but he only got a little bit of blood out. He resumed when the cough went away.

“It’s torture, sitting in this room in the middle of summer. And besides… I would only have two more weeks of bedridden pain.”

She bit her lip a little. “Are you… are you sure about that?”

Luther nodded slowly. “Yes. This is what I want.”

Natalie sighed again, heavier this time, and stood. “Alright, I’ll go inform the doctor.”

-

The next day, Luther felt weaker than ever. His family was here, and the doctor. They were here to say goodbye before the doctor was to put him in the final coma.

Natalie had been crying recently, but not at the moment. Her eyes were red, but she was good at stopping her emotions when she wanted to. His older brother Tommy was there, blonde hair in it’s usual wave, and hazel eyes full of sadness. And standing between them was his pride and joy, his little girl who was all grown up with her long brown hair like her mother, and holding a giant sunflower, was Madelyn. She had fresh tears flowing down her cheeks.

“Daddy, I—I don’t want you to go,” she said, handing him the sunflower and giving him a ginger hug.

“I don’t want to go either sweetheart. It’s hard to die, but it’s what I need to do now,” he told her, trying not to cry himself. Suddenly his fear of dying was back, but he couldn’t turn back now.

All Madelyn did in response was cry more. Tommy pulled her back into a hug. “Don’t worry about him Maddy, he’ll be fine. He’ll be out of a lot of pain,” he explained to her, whilst giving Luther a pained look. Now it was Natalie’s turn. She bent over him and kissed his lips for the last time.

“I love you,” she whispered hoarsely.

“I love you too, darling,” Luther replied, gripping the sunflower to his chest and letting the tingle of her kiss on his lips stay for as long as it could. He nodded to the doctor.

“I’m ready.”

He closed his eyes, letting the image of his family’s faces be the last one he would see.

And he slipped into a deep sleep, and never woke again.