Block · one region of the page, as the scanner read it. It may hold a whole story, part of one, several, or an advertisement; stitching blocks into articles is the next step. Text is supplied OCR.
Page 14 · column 6 of 7 · from the scan, no model involved
to call the preacher and honor Annie’s wishes.
The physician looked once again into Annie’s eyes. She nodded. He released the cuff balloon and removed the tube; I turned the machine off. Annie spluttered a few seconds and cqughed and tried to talk. Slowly, she found her voice.
“I do not want to live in this misery. I am ready to go with the Lord,” she said. She was already laboring as she talked.
The physician hugged Annie, kissed her forehead, and left.
Another nurse brought a dose of morphine for Annie. I told her it would ease her discomfort and anxiety, but she refused it and asked us to pray with her. We all did.
We felt warmth and that the room was filling. I felt sad, but I was not crying. It was peaceful and still and so right in this transition for Annie from life to her family in heaven.
I prayed that Annie would not need the morphine in my pocket; I prayed that the preacher would arrive shortly. I prayed for all nurses who are committed to the profession; I prayed for this physician who had carried out the most sensible act I had witnessed.
I took the telemetry monitor off Annie. I put a clean gown on her and washed her face, talking softly to her.
Her breathing became irregular. The preacher arrived and Annie rallied at his voice. She mumbled, but was unable to open her eyelids. I could hear more fluid filling her lungs and see less struggle as she sank into unconsciousness.
As her body was sinking and failing, I wondered at her her heart, spirit, and soul being lifted into peace, tranquility and to love.
96.0%