Negotiating with the Grim Reaper

Readers Story

On September 29, 2016, death visited me three times after he came along and knocked my love to the cold hard ground.  I have not had much death in my life or experiences with death, yet death seams to call my attention.  Needless to say he got my full attention.

My husband (I will use his nickname for this story which is Rip. Yes, you read that right. Rip was his nickname long before this event.) was working on the roof structure of the new front porch addition to our home.  He had just finished nailing the last board in place. As he was getting down, the speeder braces on both sides of the ladder broke causing it to give way. As Rip fell, he caught himself on the porch trusses, but his feet got tangled in the ladder. As The ladder fell, it pulled him down and catapulted him head first onto the ground.  Rip went into seizures for over eight minutes.

As my family called 911 and were waiting for the ambulance, I talked him back to me. “Come back to me baby,” I cooed to him as I held my hand on his chest and pushed all of my love into his heart. Rip started making an odd gurgling sound as his tongue turned blue. I was getting ready to start CPR. Suddenly, I felt a presence at his feet. There was no question as to who it was. I then boldly told Death that he could not have my husband. “I am not done with him yet, You cannot have him!”   Then, gradually Rip finally began to breathe again.

During the trip to the hospital, I held onto my composure as it was trying to escape me.  I knew Rip was in very bad condition. I needed all of the paramedic’s focus on him not me. Once we reached the hospital, I hung back outside the doors to the room where they took Rip. One of the nurses asked me to follow the security guard. And there he was again. Death looking down at me with his sunken in eyes and hollowed out checks.  He never spoke a word. He just started down the hallway. I followed the thin and boney figure to the waiting room.  Deep down in my soul, I knew he was Death. Once Again I told him from the recesses of my mind, “ I told you, you cannot have him. He is mine. I am not done with him.”  Death turned and looked at me with a sideways glance and smirk on his face as if to say…as if I could possibly stop me.

As I was finally allowed to go see my husband in the emergency care room, I immediately began healing process on Rip. At this point he was conscious but in very bad shape.  I was promptly notified that he had a subdural hematoma and subdural hemorrhage and that they were going to life flight him to a level 1 trauma center.  As we rode in the helicopter, I was looking out at the millions of lights as they faded into the night sky.  Darkness enveloped the landscape leaving only sparse lights in the remaining country side down below.

With earmuffs on my ears to protect me from the noise of the jet engine powering the rotating blades of the life flight, I was alone with my thoughts for the first time since the initial accident.  I had focused my gaze onto the reflection of my husband in the window that I was looking out of. His image then morphed into the image of Death.  This time Death wanted to make a deal.  The name of two lives to replace Rip’s one. I gladly gave them up. I realize that they will not come without much grief and consequences.  But Death has my attention, and he is to no longer be ignored.

Story submitted by: Sandy