TheBanyanTree: On Comas

[Monique Young]

John was perhaps not my favorite person, nor was I his. He came in with all
the subtlety of a rhino in a wading pool, and he was loud, and very much by
the book, whereas I'm more of a "let's just get the job done," sort of
person. He told me to clean up my attitude once. I said, "sure, I'll look
into it." That was when I first realized that cleaning up my attitude would
necessitate a change in my position. 

 

John was a jokester. He also liked to stand very close and invade my
personal space because he thought it was funny. I do not like my personal
space invaded so I wasn't as amused, but John didn't care. 

 

The first few weeks he was on the staff I had to watch his work closely - he
made some mistakes, and reconciling after he'd been working gave me a
headache. But that settled down, after I kept telling him what to look out
for. Also, he mailed checks that he'd meant not to, and hadn't mailed checks
he'd meant to. 

 

He refused to celebrate my birthday. While a group of coworkers tricked me
into the conference room so they could sing happy birthday John stayed at
his desk, and we never spoke of it. I didn't hold it against him - he didn't
celebrate anyone's birthday, probably not even his own, and wouldn't come to
our Christmas party, probably because he doesn't celebrate that either.
That's okay. That was just John.

 

I worried about his health. Morbidly obese, he'd come up the stairs to our
office on the second floor sounding as if he couldn't breathe, and you could
hear him approaching, his tread heavy, every gasp sounding like his last.
Then he'd get to his desk and take out his inhaler, and after a bit he'd
catch his breath. It wasn't easy. 

 

He liked to talk about his days in the Army, and football. And like all good
accountants, he liked to tell accounting war stories. 

 

He'd make jokes and kid around, but he respected my work and my knowledge,
and he was supportive in that masculine testosterone fueled manner that can
be found among older veterans. 

 

I left the company in order to improve my attitude, and hey, it worked! John
was still there, as a consultant, carrying on in I suspect his usual manner.

 

Until Friday morning, anyway. He was at home when he fell and hit his head.
Three days later, John's still in a coma, and his wife has to make a
decision today on whether or not to take him off life support. His heart has
stopped beating a couple of times, and they, meaning the all-knowing
doctors, aren't expecting him to make it. 

 

Sucks, don't it?

 

Yeah, that's what I thought.

 

Wouldn't surprise me if he woke up though.