Under Discussion

Under Discussion

They're debating whether or not to cut off my life support system; to
stop feeding me air and nourishment by tube. I can hear them talking,
but can hardly make out the words - mostly it's just a faint and
faraway burbling noise, quite soothing in its way.
I notice I'm not being offered a chance to give my opinion! They don't
even refer to me as 'he', but rather impersonally - some might think
harshly - as 'it'. A nameless and voiceless being, hovering in this
no-man's-land. Neither alive nor dead. Awaiting other people's
decisions.
I can hear my mother's voice, among the others. They seem to be
arguing with her. Although I can't see her face I feel close to her in
particular. She's upset and I wish there was some way I could find to
reach out and communicate; to comfort her. "Listen, Mum," I want to say
"It's OK. Whichever way it goes for me, you're not to blame. I would
never think of blaming you. Whatever they do."
You'll have gathered from this, I'm philosophical. It's the only way
to be, since I'm also completely powerless to influence the outcome one
way or another. I'm not in pain, that's something to be thankful for.
I'm warm, comfortable, well-fed and well-rested. Life's OK for me, as
it mostly has been, as far as I can remember. Unlike my poor mum -
she's slept rough on hard pavements and in urine-soaked doorways,
knowing what it feels like to be an outcast. I've never known that. But
I suppose I will, if they turf me out of here! An outcast from life
itself, that's what I'll be.
It depends what follows. It very much depends. Is there life after
death - or in my case, life after semi-life?
Despite it all, I feel I've grown and developed. Since being here I've
become a new person. More understanding; even more aware of what's
going on around me. Although to be honest, I can't recall much about my
previous existence...
And who are the others? They weren't here when I first arrived. Then
my mother was alone, or rather, it was just me and her. And we didn't
need to communicate - it was enough to just be together, inseparable,
as we always were. But these other people are talking all the time,
quarrelling or berating her. Sometimes their voices rise in panic or
anger.
It's only because of me that she's here, otherwise I think she'd have
run away again, back to one of the places where we lived before. And
she's making an effort to keep calm; not letting their anger reach me
through her, remaining strong against them. She's learning how to be
strong, for my sake.
Assuming these voices belong to the people I'll have to live with,
when/if I get off the life support system and out of here, does the
prospect really fill me with unmixed delight? If it's a 'yes' decision,
I'll eventually be forced to cope with that lot face to face, on their
own ground, like my mum has to. Blimey!
Beyond them all, I sometimes hear a different set of voices. First
music, then these other voices. Not peaceful or soothing - no, always
breaking out into quarrels, just like the first lot. Like an echo of
what's happening here. But one thing I've noticed - when the second set
of voices are arguing, the first ones fall silent, only making the
occasional remark. Then the music comes again.
So it's like, the second voices seem to distract the first lot from
their own problems. As for Mum, she doesn't say much, except when
really pushed.
I can almost hear what they're saying. I'm straining to hear, to make
sense of the words. And suddenly a breakthrough - I can
understand!
And this is what they say: "It's up to you, Lois. You're the one who's
going to have to look after it, for the next however many years. You've
got to make the final decision."
And she's saying: "I have decided. And anyway I've already rung the
clinic, to cancel my appointment. I want to keep the baby. I'm not
having an abortion."