Life and Death

Life~ Quite a few years back, my boyfriend at that time, got sick. Really sick. High fever, bad headache, sore neck. I would give him NSAIDS, and it would seem to help, but never for more than an hour or two. After 24 hours of me constantly hovering with a thermometer in on hand and a cold rag in the other, I had figured out that there was something really fucking wrong. He would drift in and out of being sentient, and got very disoriented. The higher the fever, the worse he got, and I would either give him tylenol poisoning or do something.

His parents hated me. H.A.T.E.D. me. His mother thought I was some demon corrupting her son, and I was single handedly going to take his soul to Hell. I had to make the call. It took me hours to try and convince the boyfriend that he needed to be taken to the hospital.... actually I never had him convinced. I called his dad anyway. After arguing on the phone with his hard ass headed dad for half an hour, I finally talked him into coming to get his son and take him to the fucking ER.

Diagnosis? Bacterial Meningitis. He was in the hospital for a couple of days being treated for it, and the nurse told me that he very well could have died... especially after I told her how bad he had gotten at home. But he didn't die. I played a big part in saving a life.

Death~ A woman, with her mother in the car, ran the red light across Las Vegas Blvd. By the time she hit the center of the intersection she was clocking about 40 mph. So by the time I saw her, all I saw was driver's side door, and her terrified face- milliseconds before impact. I was also traveling fast- 48 mph, and when I T-Boned her vehicle everything in my car turned white with air bag and chemicals. Her velocity continued mostly forward, as she was speeding the intersection, and she wrapped her POS 70's-mobile around the signal light pole going about 30 mph, at least thats what the cop told me. My skid marks were all of 9 to 10 feet long; I never had time to brake.

When I finally kicked my way out the passenger side of my car, (way pissed off and ready to beat her fucking face in), I walked over and saw a woman's face looking like it had been in a bare knuckles prize fight. She had eaten steering wheel... a whole shit load of it. Her face looking like it had exploded from her nose, she was bleeding all over the place, and I think her arm was broken- since her driver side door was pushed in about a foot. I got around the other side of the car, and saw a passenger- an elderly-ish woman. She seemed okay- other than the spider web in the windshield from where her head hit, and being in a lot of pain. Neither of them had been wearing their seat belts... The ultimate fucking stupidity. Ambulances came and took them away. I walked away with chemical burns from he air bag, a seat belt bruise, and a slightly more fucked up wrist than I had before.

I found out later that her mother, the passenger in the car, didn't make it. She died that day from massive internal injuries including a ruptured spleen, a lacerated liver, a collapsed lung, and subdural bleeding. (The driving daughter was in the hospital for quite some time with her injuries, but she survived...)
It wasn't my fault. I know that- but I played a big hand in that woman's death.

I didn't save or kill anyone of big consequence to world peace, political process, or someone rich and famous. But they were important to someone. The woman who died was a mother- with a family. The friend who lived has a family, (a crazy one), and friends- maybe someone he has saved. What about you, my faithful reader? Have you played a part in a life or death? Been a part of the puzzle of mortality?
(And I don't want any "He/She changed my life" shit. I get enough of that forwarded warm fuzzy vomit in my spam box- I delete it and cuss out the pud whackers that send it.)
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Tschuss