I Chose Death

I’ve arrived to the wrong life. Have I had the option to choose the time, place, or form of my creation? Could I change any quality of my life? To tell the truth, I think we’re very helpless in all life aspects. We all are fixed like a logo cubes. And sometimes, when I observe the chaotic scene in this life, I doubt the presence of an order, or even a higher power to fix this chaos.




Every morning I drive my car to the hospital, I could think of 2 manners of life; either working or sleeping. Do we have a third option? Does anyone of us have the gut to break this cycle and do something else?


On the Valentine’s Day, it was my first session in the ER department. The place was very busy, and full of life. It felt like bee’s nest. I couldn’t imagine, even for a moment, that death could break through to such a place. I overheard much information in disarranged sequence, and in different places all around about many patients. However, at one point, I noticed a crying woman, praying her god to save her child. In front of her there was a bed, a lot of doctors and nurses. The monitor of her vital signs was reading ZERO pulse. The child heart stopped beating, and all doctors were trying to bring her heart to beat again. Finally I could understand the overheard information previously; the child was a female, 14 years old, with mental retardation, recurrent brain tumor, which had been removed twice, untreated fever for 1 week, and aspiration of stomach contents into the lungs. I thought such troubles can’t gather in one patient, therefore, I assumed that they’re many patients. As time progressed, her mother wept louder and louder. The doctor asked about how many minutes had passed since the resuscitation?


For sure I can’t participate in her resuscitation process, as I’m not trained. I was left with one option: PRAYING. Still, should I pray for her to live or die? I chose death. Life is a journey, from the early moment of birth until death, through pain and suffers. And I think this girl had her enough dose of pain. An old wise man said one that a baby cries at birth because the feeling of sorrow to arrive this crude world. A baby wishes to stay at his mother womb or never been created and born. So back to options we have in life, I find it very funny and ironic that we, helpless people, keep trying to do something helpful. I can’t choose to die or live, to be born or be uncreated. So, how can I stop death reaching somebody else?


2 days ago, 15th Feb 2010, a man was driving his car to King Khalid University Hospital at Riyadh. This man doesn’t work there, nor was he sleeping in early morning. He went to the morgue, to retrieve his beloved daughter corpse. I’m sure his head is full of flashbacks, as mine is. When doctors stopped the resuscitation, 3 nurses came to clean the place, the dead body, and cover her face with a white sheet. Finally I’ve been introduced to the third party of people, those who deal with death very closely. Those are the most important and most neglected party. This’s not the closure, since they’re endless questions in my head.


Could I fit better if I had been recreated in another place, time, or form?


Could the child be saved if her parents had been brought her earlier?


Could she have a better treatment if the doctor weren’t the idiot Egyptian doctor who doesn’t know the doses of necessary medications?


Was the sequence of events change if any minor modification happened, before it was initiated in the first place?