Strange, it seems, to be gazing down upon the resuscitation bay. I left my body about an hour ago yet they seem intent on forcing air into my carcass and pressing over and over again on my chest.

I must have inhaled enough vomit to fill a bucket. Luckily I have no recollection. That toxic muddle keeps spewing out of the tube and they keep forcing it back in. I know about all the pain meds, but I am no doctor. Still, even to me, none of this horrid scene makes much sense. And I’m not sure why someone keeps humming that Bee Gees tune “Stayin’ Alive.” Firstly, I’m clearly not staying alive. And secondly, I really hate the Bee Gees.

I realize they have work to do, but a gown over my chest would be a nice gesture. The rattlesnake tattoo on my left breast has been an embarrassment since the day after I got it. I do wish they would stop all of it.

I’m not sure why someone keeps humming that Bee Gees tune ‘Stayin’ Alive.’ Firstly, I’m clearly not staying alive. And secondly, I really hate the Bee Gees.

It’s time for me to leave now but I feel that I should not move on until these doctors and nurses are satisfied that I am, in fact, dead. Possibly a Munchkin in a black suit and a strange voice will come out and sing, “As Coroner I must aver, I thoroughly examined her. And she’s not only merely dead, she’s really most sincerely dead.” That would make me feel better about leaving, but for now I have this inexplicable desire to watch.

It’s the same as driving by a rollover accident in the median of the freeway. The Incredible Hulk couldn’t keep you from turning your head to gawk.

I’m certain they all think poorly of me. The looks on their faces show a combination of pity and disdain. Pitiful would be a good description of me. You’ll get no argument here. I can’t blame anyone for their posthumous judgment.

I didn’t mean for my short life to end this way. I was a different person before. Nobody would have ever voted me homecoming queen but you wouldn’t call me unattractive. Before I lost 20 pounds and cut my hair and dyed it pink I could at least look presentable. The thing is, I started using after a car accident. I thought my pain was really bad then. After watching this gruesome scene and seeing my family react, I now know what 10 out of 10 pain really feels like.