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Witnessed a suicide today


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:unsure:

So me and the wife are 5 miles from our exit to get to our apartment on I-75, when we noticed a pickup on the side of a large bridge. As we pass him my wife gasps and says, "Oh my God, he's gonna jump!" I turned around and sure enough he was standing on the concrete wall on the edge of the bridge, wrapping a jacket around his head. As we pulled off and my wife is dialing 911, I turned around and I watched him fall off the bridge.

Police finally showed up, took our information, and informed us someone from Lexington Metro Police would be in touch for a statement. We just got the call from a homicide detective who took our story. We actually found out we got the better end of the deal, some people were fishing on the river below the bridge and watched him hit the water and were the first to find him afterwards.

He had his mind made up though. He didn't stand there for 20 mins, he was up on the wall and off the bridge in probably 30 seconds. Crazy day. :(

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Wow, that's pretty bad.

The janitor at school committed suicide after a standoff with police. He was always happy and would greet you with a smile and a "what's up?" or "how's it going?" when you came in to school, but apparantly he had some family problems.

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When I was younger, there was this old metal truss bridge on a county highway here that we were approaching. As we passed by, I my mom and I noticed that the guardrail had been smashed through and down at the bottom in the river was a smashed up 80s Camaro. This was before cell phones and all that so we finished driving out to my grandma's house and called the sheriff's department, which informed us that they had already responded to the scene.

In the paper the next day, there was an article about a 20-something year old kid that had commited suicide by driving off the bridge. It's still kinda haunting to drive by that bridge today because I still have memories of that Camaro lying down there in the river bed. I still don't understand why people would rather end it all than try to work things out.

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God, that's horrible, bowtie. Suicide is cowardly and selfish, I feel. I hope you guys are able to rationalize the incident soon, something like this has to be hard to get out of your mind.
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When you feel it, you'll understand.

BV, not everyone feels it during the course of their life...

... and to those who have never, just understand it makes complete sense at the time. Not that I'm saying it's right. Never thought things would get better when I tried. Granted a lot of the things that bugged me then are still bugging me, medication does wonders for making someone not feel so hopeless 100% of the time. Meds helped it make things seem hopeless 99% of the time--and it was that 1% I needed to battle the thoughts in my mind--to tell myself, "Hey, maybe if this one element in my life is good, there can be other good elements one day?"

The funny thing about my "suicide attempts" is that, I was doing it for the obsessive guilt I felt (guilt brought on by my mind--I didn't do anything wrong)--it was the guilt I felt thinking of all the extra work I'd cause for people if I killed myself, like arranging a funeral, cleaning up the body, etc. Thank God I had a friend who was intelligent to play off my guilt issues.

Bowtie, I'm so sorry you and your wife had to see that.

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BV, not everyone feels it during the course of their life...

Ofcourse... but you know what I meant. :P

... and to those who have never, just understand it makes complete sense at the time.  Not that I'm saying it's right.  Never thought things would get better when I tried.  Granted a lot of the things that bugged me then are still bugging me, medication does wonders for making someone not feel so hopeless 100% of the time.  Meds helped it make things seem hopeless 99% of the time--and it was that 1% I needed to battle the thoughts in my mind--to tell myself, "Hey, maybe if this one element in my life is good, there can be other good elements one day?"

The funny thing about my "suicide attempts" is that, I was doing it for the obsessive guilt I felt (guilt brought on by my mind--I didn't do anything wrong)--it was the guilt I felt thinking of all the extra work I'd cause for people if I killed myself, like arranging a funeral, cleaning up the body, etc.  Thank God I had a friend who was intelligent to play off my guilt issues.

Bowtie, I'm so sorry you and your wife had to see that.

:withstupid:
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Ofcourse... but you know what I meant. :P

:withstupid:

Great, BV called me stupid, and now I'm going to spiral into another depression :lol:

Okay, maybe a poor time to make a joke, but I think my sense of humor helped me get through some rough times. That, and creativity (you guys should meet "The Force".) :lol:

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Sad thing indeed to witness. This is why have to be careful what we say to people in our daily lives and online. You never know who you are talking to and how they will take things. People do not realize the power of their words and the impact they have. That is why they say do not go to bed angry and tell your loved ones how much you love them.

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Great, BV called me stupid, and now I'm going to spiral into another depression  :lol:

Okay, maybe a poor time to make a joke, but I think my sense of humor helped me get through some rough times.  That, and creativity (you guys should meet "The Force".)  :lol:

:withstupid: You guys helped me out the most... If it wasn't for some, I might not be here. So: :CG_all:
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Depression and mental illness are probably a lot more prevalent than people realize.

The Golden Gate Bridge has had 1200 suicides in its 69 years. There's been controversy about putting up a suicide barrier.

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Wow... that's absolutely horrible. :(

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God, that's horrible, bowtie.  Suicide is cowardly and selfish, I feel.  I hope you guys are able to rationalize the incident soon, something like this has to be hard to get out of your mind.

Very scary... :(

It would be hard the say that suicide is cowardly though, ocn.

A few years ago I talked a good friend into not committing suicide.

He scared the heck out of me. :(

The reason he planned to do it was beacuse he figured nobody would care.

I would agree with the selfish part....

But I think it would take some serious balls to do it....I couldn't see it as easy.

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Yikes, bowtie. Sorry you had to witness that....

Thoughts/prayers for the person that jumped ... and the family and friends that have to deal with this death, too.

Cort, "Mr MC" / "Mr Road Trip", 32swm/pig valve/pacemaker

MC:family.IL.guide.future = http://www.chevyasylum.com/cort/

chdQB = http://www.chevyasylum.com/cort/quilt.html

"Who's gonna hold me tonight?" ... Trace Adkins ... 'Help Me Understand'

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Sad thing indeed to witness. This is why have to be careful what we say to people in our daily lives and online. You never know who you are talking to and how they will take things.  People do not realize the power of their words and the impact they have. That is why they say do not go to bed angry and tell your loved ones how much you love them.

But if someone is already that mentally ill and unstable it does not even matter. I remember reading about someone who became extremely depressed and thought his dog hated him because the dog walked past him one morning without being affectionate. Those kinds of thoughts are just mental illness. They are not rational, and therefore cannot be dealt with rationally.

I'm with ocnblu...suicide is cowardly and selfish...it is running away and giving up instead of being a fighter. That said...because of the mental illness aspect, one cannot always hold someone responsible for his/her actions.

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I'm sorry to read that you witnessed such an event.

Unless you find yourself in those shoes, it's far too easy to call it cowardly and selfish. I mean no offense; however, knowing firsthand the details of someone's life, and talking them through the course of their depression and suicidal moments, I've realized it takes far more bravery to end their life. The following words were simply meant for me to remember, for a kind of healing reminder. They need not be read if not interested.

One friend ended it with a rifle under his chin. A group of us were to meet for a summer tubing trip down the river. He was to be picked up by his best buddy, and was found in the back yard. This was over fifteen years ago, and it changed all our lives completely. While he did have family troubles, they were common variety. It had been concluded that he suffered escalating psychological issues that were beyond his control. We were too young to understand the inner workings of his mind, or the humerous behavioral traits that turned out to be 'episodes'. In cases like his, rational thought didn't exist for ending his life.

The other was the sister to my best friend. Our families were rather close. A couple years older than us, a gorgeous teenager at the top of her life with her final year in highschool with great grades, a great boyfriend and family. She was found in the garage with the car running. To this day, she took her secret with her as nobody knows what sent her to that decision. Some assumed the possibility that she feared she may have been pregnant; however, the family has always been so loving and caring, it's doubtful she would have feared the prospect, but would have immediately come to the family for support. If the parents did know the truth, they chose to keep it a secret from everyone in order to preserve the memory of her.

When it happens to those you love, that they choose to end their lives, you can't help but feel pained by their decision. At least, we could only wish everyone could face their fears; but when we can't be sure if they even know what they fear to drive them to suicide, we can only speculate and lay judgement.

Edited by ShadowDog
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Damn, sorry you and yours had to witness such a sad incident, and I agree, unless youve been close to doing it you can never understand, and its not always something thats easy to overcome. Luckily I never went through with it. I finally understand were here for a reason and giving up on life isnt the answer, but at that moment when you wanna end it all, you dont relize that.

Edited by deftonesfan867
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I am going to recuse myself from any further comment because those who have said it are right... unless you feel it or see it firsthand, you just don't know.

When I was 18 and just graduated high school, I went through a period of depression where I was so caught up in worry about my future I could barely function. I didn't see a future away from the safety of my school friends (who unwittingly kept me from having to deal directly with being gay). I was a good student, yet I couldn't afford to go to a good college. I ended up with an AA degree at one community college, and attending another for several semesters in classes I was interested in.

At the height of this, I lost weight because I couldn't eat, I couldn't think straight, I couldn't focus on my farm chores, my gray hair proliferated, and I just didn't know which way to turn. I went to my primary care doctor and told him of my mental and emotional state. The first thing he asked me was... "Are you heterosexual or homosexual?"

:pokeowned:

That perceptive question saved me. Yes, I thought about suicide before going to that doctor, but after that visit, things started to clear up for me. Those words lifted me up so I could see from a different perspective.

All I'm saying is, I was in a bad place, but I won't speculate on the motives of seemingly happy people who end it with little or no warning. It's a sad thing to not know if you could have helped, I'm sure.

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The first thing he asked me was... "Are you heterosexual or homosexual?"

Wow... that's odd... I got asked the same question. And the reasoning behind it was, "Because many homosexual youth try to commit suicide."

I HATED that was part of the reason. And I HATED her knowing it like it was just a fact, and not the horrific emotional plunge as I felt it.

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Last time I checked...if y'all are posting on here, you don't know it "first-hand" since you aren't deceased.

With all due respect...how is there a "bravery" to suicide?

And to clarify so false assumptions are not made, yes depression has been battled, and yes ol' Croc has had friends who were suicidal. So no, Croc isn't just talking out of his butt.

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I've seen this so many times, I feel for you that you had to witness such a thing. I will say though that it is far worse to get inside the mind of someone planning suicide than to witness the final result. I could type 5 pages on all of this, but I just don't have the strength to deal with it all again right now. Suicide is the most selfish and cowardly act one can commit. I've lost too many friends this way not to know.

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Last time I checked...if y'all are posting on here, you don't know it "first-hand" since you aren't deceased.

With all due respect...how is there a "bravery" to suicide?

And to clarify so false assumptions are not made, yes depression has been battled, and yes ol' Croc has had friends who were suicidal.  So no, Croc isn't just talking out of his butt.

I believe anyone could understand we're talking "first-hand" experience with suicidal attempts and thoughts.

As for "bravery" to suicide.. I can understand that... some truly feel although it's the hardest thing they'd ever do, they have to--that it'd be better for other people if they were gone.

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I believe anyone could understand we're talking "first-hand" experience with suicidal attempts and thoughts.

But see that's just it...you're here because you rationally realized it just wasn't a good option, would hurt the people around you, a permanent end to a less-than-permanent set of circumstances...but my point is that for the people who actually go through with it...they are beyond rational thought and truly think it's the best solution. Obviously you and I weren't so far gone that we went through with it. See my point? Suicide is cowardly...but you can't always hold people responsible for it...especially if they are mentally unstable. Like...the CEO of a major corporation who blows his brains out when the SEC starts investigating........coward. The person who hits a hard patch in life.......could go either way. The dude on Prozac for the past six years and therapy bills that are higher than the gas spending........yea prolly can't hold him responsible.
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As for "bravery" to suicide.. I can understand that... some truly feel although it's the hardest thing they'd ever do, they have to--that it'd be better for other people if they were gone.

I still disagree. You start using "bravery" and that leads to calling suicide "heroic." Sorry, that doesn't fly with me.
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But see that's just it...you're here because you rationally realized it just wasn't a good option, would hurt the people around you, a permanent end to a less-than-permanent set of circumstances...but my point is that for the people who actually go through with it...they are beyond rational thought and truly think it's the best solution.  Obviously you and I weren't so far gone that we went through with it.  See my point?  Suicide is cowardly...but you can't always hold people responsible for it...especially if they are mentally unstable.  Like...the CEO of a major corporation who blows his brains out when the SEC starts investigating........coward.  The person who hits a hard patch in life.......could go either way.  The dude on Prozac for the past six years and therapy bills that are higher than the gas spending........yea prolly can't hold him responsible.

Hey, I actually went through with it once and it failed--that wasn't exactly rational. Other times I was more rational.

I still disagree.  You start using "bravery" and that leads to calling suicide "heroic."  Sorry, that doesn't fly with me.

Who said anyone is a hero? You can be brave or couragious with something, but not necessarily a hero.
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Who said anyone is a hero?  You can be brave or couragious with something, but not necessarily a hero.

I did not say "hero"; I said "heroic." Bravery, courage, strength, resolve, determination...all are words that are often used together and in terms of something heroic...and yet I would never use those words to describe a suicide.
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Hey, I actually went through with it once and it failed--that wasn't exactly rational.  Other times I was more rational.

Did it fail because it just was ineffective, or because at the last minute you "came to your senses" so to speak and realized you weren't ready to die? The vast majority of people who attempt suicide have a last-minute change of heart.
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Did it fail because it just was ineffective, or because at the last minute you "came to your senses" so to speak and realized you weren't ready to die?  The vast majority of people who attempt suicide have a last-minute change of heart.

It failed because it was ineffective. Now add that to an already ultra-low self esteem--I find it almost humorous now but the words out of my mouth were, "God, I can't even do THIS right!"
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It failed because it was ineffective.  Now add that to an already ultra-low self esteem--I find it almost humorous now but the words out of my mouth were, "God, I can't even do THIS right!"

You're lucky. Damn lucky. So I take what I said back...basically, I'm here because I rationally realized that it would hurt the people closest to me more than I could bear...you're just here because you happen to be lucky.
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You're lucky.  Damn lucky.  So I take what I said back...basically, I'm here because I rationally realized that it would hurt the people closest to me more than I could bear...you're just here because you happen to be lucky.

What is odd is that knowing me, you'd see I was one of the most-unlucky people out there. But when it comes to big things, really big things, I seem to luck out.

My luck with other things has been so poor, I started calling it "The Force". My friends used it as well as their parents--"Paulie, I borrowed your Force today." I should start a separate thread with what's happened to me--I mean, it's downright hysterical. I had this friend of a friend, a statistician, say, "You're actually fighting statistics and probability--you're the guy who will win the lotto, but actually die the next day." This happened when I was out to dinner and the restaurant didn't have my dessert (this has been going on for about 6-7 years now... no matter where I go, what I order, it's not going to be there. I'm the Al Bundy of luck... just not with the really big things--where I might end up hurt or dead.

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Society views each situation differently based on its culture.

A soldier caught in a moment of certain death by his enemy chooses to die by his own hand than suffer the indignity of torture and information extraction, or to be a bargaining piece as a hostage in a war. Rationalize this one all you want, society views the soldier as a courageous one.

Thinking that 'giving up' is easy is an opinion that not all of society shares.

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I've thought about sucide many times, and at no point would i consider it a cowardly decision. more so i'd consider it hopeless. when you have "kept faith" as some people might put it :P and it just doesnt seem like you are getting to see the light at the end of the tunnel...

personally, i've been depressed for the majority of my life... ever since i was about 11, i became really suppressive with my emotions and for the most part extremely depressed... and i'll tell you what i've made the best of it despite my outlook on life. i've had a few days sitting on the outside of my balcony safty rail looking at a 40+ foot drop, and i will probably always remember those thoughts that went through my head like it was yesterday. and i'll tell you one thing... the only thing that kept me from jumping that day, or the next, or comiting any event like that, was the fear of failure... because who is a person who tries to comit suicide and ends up in a wheel chair for the rest of his life?

It failed because it was ineffective. Now add that to an already ultra-low self esteem--I find it almost humorous now but the words out of my mouth were, "God, I can't even do THIS right!"

somedays i think about it, but i will never go through the motions ever again...

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Last time I checked...if y'all are posting on here, you don't know it "first-hand" since you aren't deceased.

With all due respect...how is there a "bravery" to suicide?

And to clarify so false assumptions are not made, yes depression has been battled, and yes ol' Croc has had friends who were suicidal.  So no, Croc isn't just talking out of his butt.

As with Paulie... I'm not here because I rationally thought about it. I've failed twice. The third time... I tried to rationally think through it, but just about came to that point before my mom stepped in and sent me to a pschiatrist. That was earlier this year and was arguably the most I was ever depressed. Much of the rational thinking was brought on by you guys the several months before that point with the threads I'd start. In the end, I stopped and came to the point where I was ready to attempt it again. Thankfully, I was saved from doing it and am now 3 months into my Therapy and 3 months on anti-depressants and I have never felt better. While I'm not proud to have been suicidal, I don't ignore how right it seemed at the time. Part of that "bravery" Paullie mentioned is how hard it is to actually go through with it. Suicide was, by far, the hardest thing I attempted to do. I wouldn't say "bravery" is the perfect way to describe that, however. I just know... it took alot to go through with it, similar to something brave. Still, as with said, me and Paullie are lucky even though I have horrible luck. I guess, in a way, my bad luck is making up for all the luck it took to survive two suicide attempts.

Anyways... long live anti-depressants. They work wonders in the right dosage. :D

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yah in reference to witnessing suicides . . .

my friends dad went running later yesterday and they found his body today in the woods . . . very apparant suicide and i dont think the family even knows yet . . .

i put it on my tally chart of suicides in my area . . . up 28 of people i know in the last 5 yrs . . . 5 of which i witnessed . . .

is it bad when someone witnesses a suicide and gets upset and you want to tell them the first one is always the hardest and it gets better with every one? blahhh

i have no heart i guess?

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Whether a suicide is brave or cowardly is not up for anyone other than the victim to decide. Like the trite expression goes, until we "walk a mile" in the other person's shoes, we have no clue what his or her life is like, or what the circumstances are leading up to the decision to willfully end his or her life.

One may view a suicide as the transfer of internal pain and anguish from one's self to his family, but it is not so. As hard as it is to understand, pain cannot be willed, transferred, moved, traded, negotiated, rationed, bargained, or bartered. When that man allowed himself to fall from the bridge his pain, anguish, hurt, depression, and hopelessness died with him. It was his pain... he owned it, and it was his to deal with how he chose. His family now has their own pain to deal with... pain they've created in their minds to makethis tragedy comprehendable. They must take ownership of it, deal with it, and move on and it is their responsibility to do so.

It's easy to say "Oh, he killed himself over something so trivial...all he had to do was..." Unfortunately, devaluing someone else's reasoning behind the decision to willfully end his life isn't an appropriate action to take. I could never see someone killing himself over financial troubles because I've grown up with a good support system in that aspect, whereas a heterosexual may not be able to fathom a homosexual killing him/herself over something as trivial as sexuality... but discrimination and internal struggles with sexuality is likely something the heterosexual never had to deal with. Simply put, it's not fair to the victim or the victim's family to condemn the victim, judge his actions, or devalue his reasoning for it.

That said, let me share a story:

A few summers ago marked my first ever job at a hospital. I was halfway through nursing school, and accepted a summer externship where I would be shadowing a nurse for two months, practicing skills and gaining critical clinical time that was invaluable to my education. One of my first days on the job I was introduced to a patient who, through numerous tubes, bags, pumps, and other various machines, retained a friendly and welcoming demeanor. Her name was Susan (of course, that's not her real name) and she was a retired health care professional.

A quick assessment of the equipment surrounding her bed indicated that she was not a well woman. Her room, barren except for the Monet print hung on the wall opposite her bed, was devoid of the markings of family. No gifts, no flowers or balloons, no grandchildren hugging grandma's neck or well wishes from people other than hospital staff. Her chart revealed more about her health than my novice assessment could muster. She was Hepatitis C positive and she had an ileostomy (a bag attached to the skin to collect partially digested food) after the vast majority of her bowels had been removed due to cancer. She had a Groshong catheter in her left right leg feeding the femoral vein, connected to round-the-clock IV nutrition since she had no bowel to absorb nutrients from the food she had the option of eating. She had a urostomy to hold her urine after losing most of her bladder to cancer as well.

I flipped the chart to her History & Physical which revealed a ghastly living situation. She resided in a one room "house" (read: shack) with running water but no electricity. She had relocated to Mississippi seven years ago to take care of her grandchild when it became apparent her daughter wasn't going to. Now there were five grandchildren for her to raise. Earlier in the year—before she could no longer afford electricity—she had been given a used air conditioning unit... her first since moving to Mississippi. Both her children—a son and a daughter—drifted in and out of her household as they pleased, or whenever they needed a roof over their heads or money. This, I knew, from the chart since there was nary a sign of family in the room. Susie was the only person in her family that worked, despite her failing health.

The TPN (total parenteral nutrition) running directly into her vein that nourished her body cost $1,300 per bag, and she required one bag a day to survive. Medicare would not pay for her TPN and she certainly could not afford it, so she was more or less a "resident" of the hospital, staying gone one day after discharge—and thus, starving for that one day—then returning to the ER for another admission. The experienced nurses all knew her and loved her and understood the circumstances under which she lived.

She began to get well my first week on the job, and was discharged home. Later that week I was pulled to another floor and saw her name on the patient roster. Later that month I was pulled to work on a different floor and saw her there, too. Her next admission to my regular floor saw her in an ill state of health. She was vomiting old blood, had bloody diarrhea, and was all the worse for wear. Two weeks later on a Monday, she was discharged. The following Wednesday, she was back... but this time it was different, though my inexperienced eye didn't catch it at first.

After I took report on the patients, I visited Susie's room to say hello, making my way past a table with a vase of Shasta daisies. I excused myself past her bedside table, pushed up against the wall supporting a teddy bear holding a sign that said "Get Well," and gave Susan a hug. When I turned around there stood a heavily tattooed woman, about 36 standing in the door. "I want you to meet my daughter," Susan said.

It hit me then. This room had all the trappings of a doting family. A family I had not before seen prior to this day, not even once. I knew this time was different.

Susie stayed with us for a few weeks, her health wavering between guarded and almost critical. I left on my three days off and the morning I came back the nurse was preparing Susie's discharge papers.

I followed the nurse to Susie's room to give her the discharge instructions—which she could nearly recite with us, line for line from past experience. Upon leaving her room, Susie's daughter stopped us in the open doorway. "They're sending Momma home?" she asked.

"Yes, with hospice," the nurse replied.

A look of despair—no, inconvenience—flashed across her face. "Can't Momma die in the hospital... we've already moved our stuff into her place."

Taken grossly aback, I did what I could to control myself and retain my composure as I glanced back at Susie. Her face showed despair, hurt, determination simultaneously. She cupped her face inside her hands and sobbed. The door, blocked open by the nurse and me, allowed Susie to hear every word her daughter had uttered.

"Close the door," Susie said to the nurse. "I am miserable, I am dying, and I'm going to control what little of my life I have left."

From that point forward, Susie refused all medical treatment. She refused blood sugar checks, she refused to have blood drawn to check her lab, she refused antibiotics and she refused her life sustaining TPN. A sadness descended upon our usually optimistic hospital unit for the rest of the shift. I went home for my two days off contemplating the day's events, and upon my return to work learned that dear Susan died on the previous night shift at 3 AM.

# # #

In my eyes, both Susie and the man on the bridge both made decisions regarding their quality of life and took steps to end their suffering. Pray tell, what part of either story makes him/her cowardly that can be backed up with obejective evidence?

The answer? Nothing. I do not know nearly enough about either person's situation, background, or circumstances, to judge... and the only people who do are Susie and the man on the bridge.

Edited by Cadavillac
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