Dying is a solo act.
She was covered in unexplained bruises; fluid was drained daily; oxygen pumped into her nose; urine, blood and sputum leaked and oozed from orifices.
Marie sobbed every day. She relentlessly prayed that God would take her. She begged the doctors daily for a needle to end it all. Pressure sores were forming on her once milky skin. She barely ate. Her tongue was swollen, dark red, and eventually split and bled profusely. Dr. X greeted her and grinned, adding that she was doing well. Marie did impersonations of him by grinning like a Cheshire cat and then declaring he was “an idiot” and “shit-scared.”