Tom's Choice

Tom gradually became aware that he was no longer asleep and his eye-lids fluttered open. He looked around and saw his hospital room. I’m still here he thought, what goes on. He felt a gentle touch on his hand and with some difficulty looked round at the familiar face by his bedside.

“Jane” he whispered. “Good to see you; why can’t I go home?” He noticed how pale her face was and he could tell she had been crying.

“What on earth is the matter; what is happening?” She started to cry again and tears rolled down her cheeks.

“Jane please tell me.” He tried to move but his limb would barely respond.

“My dearest Tom; I am so sorry. The doctor has news for you, but I asked to tell you myself.”

Tom’s mind flashed back; he was beginning to remember. He had been at home and started to feel very unwell. He had taken some paracetamal and gone to bed hoping to sleep it off but in the early hours he was feeling truly dreadful and barely able to speak. He had woken Jane and within mins she was speeding him to hospital. He could only vaguely remember the journey or his admission but knew he had soon been in a room with medics hastily carrying out checks. They had been professionally straight faced and carefully deflected any questions he and Jane had put to them before he lost consciousness, until now.

“Tom my darling, you are very seriously ill. They must operate on you to save your life; you have sepsis.” He knew the word and had heard of the condition; and he also knew it was not good news.

“What do they want to do?” he asked. Jane sighed and for several seconds struggled to speak.

“Tom we can get through this I promise you. We can easily afford 24 hour care for as long as it takes and for as long as we need to. I will always be there with you and for you. But first we must save your life and we need you consent. I will not let them operate without it.”

“But what do they need to do?” She was crying again but managed to wipe away the tears.

“Jane please tell me.”

“The doctor assures me they must operate within two hours. They need to amputate all your limbs; it is the only way. If not, you will be dead within three days.

Tom gasped and lay back in shock. He said nothing

“They can fit bionic limbs; it will take time but they will do it.” She glanced round; the doctor came in. He was very distressed.

“Mr Smith; I am very sorry. Your wife has explained the situation. With prompt surgery I am 90% sure we can save your life. I need your consent, not immediately but within say 20 mins. I wish to God there was some other way but there is not.”

“Thank you for your honesty; please leave us for a few minutes.” The Doctor nodded and slipped away. Tom lay still as his thoughts raced through his mind. He knew that even with replacement limbs life would never be and could never be the same again. All the small things he valued had gone forever; the simple pleasures of playing his guitar or walking by the sea or river and playing with the grandchildren. The list was varied and endless and at 75 it would be a struggle to learn a new way of life.

And Jane knew that Tom would hate it; they had been together for 45 years and she realised how much he loved and needed his independence, freedom and privacy. She guessed what he would say.

“Jane; I’m sorry but I cannot go through with that. Please let me go to a hospice where I can die in peace with my family, my favourite CD’s and a few bottles of red wine. That is my choice as to how to die.” And so it was. 

 

By Tony Roberts