The Doctor and the Case Against Sickness and Death

I woke up in a medical-type room. What do you call one of those? A medical-type room was all I could think of, my mind was so woozy. It was one of those bright clean rooms with tiles. A medical-typ room.

There was a doctor there, as evidenced by his clothes and the context, and also by what he said: “How are you feeling?”

I defied the question by not answering it directly: “You are helping me stay alive,” I said, “Why? I mean, probably not me personally. Just the mass of people, me being one of them. Why?”

The doctor looked surprised. He (she?) thought for a little bit and said: “I did not expect this question. Usually, people would ask me about their condition, that sort of thing. You yourself were quite close to dying, I must say. But let me answer, because the question intrigues me personally. Why do I help the mass of people stay alive? I suppose there’s something wrong with dying. Something irregular with being sick. All my career and education I’ve been told what’s not allowed to be, that being sick or dead, and I’ve also been told how to make it not-so. So I think this is the honest reply. And I feel like I hadn’t considered it before, which is strange, given how thoughtful I consider myself.”

I though about his words a little and considered how in touch with his emotions he was, like someone well-therapised by a well-meaning therapist in a genuine psychological practice. I was completely sidetracked by this, so much so, that I was no longer able to recall the very content of his response. I tried piecing it back together and something about non-appropriateness came to me.

”The manual,” I said, “lists things which are not appropriate to be. The manual for doctors. It tells you people should not be sick or dead. And you spend your time preventing them from being so?"

"Yes."

"Is that the right thing to do?"

"I believe people want me to help them. Usually. Consider pain and discomfort. Considered lowered quality of life. Or death which is the very definition of an opposite of life."

"Yes, quite so,” I admitted.

”Except in cases like yours, where the subject seems at first to be of a different mind. Their problems stemming, so to say, from a decision to go against the grain, so to say. Only this decision is usually a symptom of illness. And they would regret their decision, if given the chance to get better. If the initial symptom were to go away."

"I see where you are going with this,” I said. “I hope you succeeded, though things looked dicey, I must say. I was pretty thorough and making sure my decision was permanent. I hope I did not, in fact, die, and I hope this is not the afterlife with me being deceived and then punished.

The doctor chuckled: “Yes, I hope so too.”

Posted by: Paweł Kowaluk