There Really is a “Death Rattle”
My parents and employers couldn’t understand why I would disappear for days on end and then come back and work and be a normal person. If they only knew. Both my parents are gone now and I can’t say I’m sorry to them for the pain I caused.
I finally smartened up about needles when I ended up in the hospital after an exceptionally busy night getting high. I was hooked up to all kinds of heart machines and such. Scared the hell out of me. That was November 1998. And I haven’t done it since. Maybe this should have happened sooner.
Before that, January 1996, my Father -- my hero -- died. I came home to the east from the west coast where I was partying very, very hard with many, many people so I could be with him. I spent the last three months of his life with him and it was the best three months I had had in a long time. No drugs, no drinking, just being a human being for a change.
That fateful January, Dad went in for triple bypass surgery and was released on a Friday at around 4PM.
When he was coming down for breakfast the next day, Saturday, Mom & I heard a thump on the floor. I ran up and he was on the floor doing the funky chicken. I’ll never, ever forget that awful day. And yes, there really is a “death rattle”. I heard it clear as a bell. I lost my Dad, my hero, he left without me ever knowing how much I loved him. The memory of seeing his last few moments on earth will never leave me. It has been 15 1/2 years now, that picture of him on the floor with the paramedics working on him, him flopping on the floor will never leave me.
My life went into a huge, huge tailspin, I didn’t care for much or anyone...