Personal Narrative-The Death Serum

The brain-dead seldom seem like they’re dead. The rise and fall of their chests is so convincing, the ventilator seems like an ornament rather than the single source of oxygen that keeps their hearts beating. Their skin is warm to the touch, and condensation clings to the inside of the catheter from the fresh streams of body-temperature urine. Despite how peaceful they look, their bodies are undergoing progressive autolysis, utter and massive self-destruction. Without the helm of consciousness, my father and all of the patients in his section of the intensive care unit seemed adrift in a tiny boat on a wild, infinite sea – yet unconcerned about finding their way back to

“You’re the girl,” he states. “The girl who found the bomb. I watched the recording. You saved a lot of good people.”

“Well, I believe that’s my cue.” I said standing up. “I’ll see you detectives later. Officer, lead the way.”

“Well, I didn't mean to eavesdrop on your conversation but I can help you with the interview.”

“You told him you had some information to share. You wouldn’t give it to him, so I’m here.”

“Tomorrow he would begin the task of breaking down the empire of Opium. It was a huge and terrifying job, but he wasn't alone.”

I dragged my gaze away from the brightly colored band-aids to Atlas ' face. "Red Army? Is that what they 're calling it nowadays?"

Adeline rushing, Corter particles grafted to my cells to resist the radiation. My body has been inclined and attached to the chains as the pain overwhelms, like an American cloud turtle poison drifting through your entire body. Feels as death is indianite, but desired greater then death. As my body has been tethered to the “Happy drugs”. Rainer comes in with Kinter, they crack up some jokes to enlighten the mood. ‘So big shoot, ready for death?” Meaning as an motivational statement, as I craved to die. But die here and kill this great organization? Or do as they say and destroy Urination and the borderlands, that are ruled by tyrants? As they have showed me how to disable the bomb, as they didn’t want to waste 56% of their total support money to one single project. Like if I got caught, by the TOA special forces, they will either capture me or kill and disable the bomb . ‘So ready to

“I see, so if we make him feel fear, then his heart rate will speed up. So if we make him calm, it will slow down, causing him to change back. He needs serious medical care urgently and will need to be delivered to the hospital.”

The druggist looked down at her. She looked back at him, erect, her face like a strained flag. `Why, of course', the druggist said. `If that's what you want. But the law requires you to tell what you are going to use it for'.

“Yes, so right now, we are experimenting on humans. We need people to, uh, volunteer, really. We talked to your mom, and we told her that we are doing this for the good of our country. We also told her that her letting you do this will be something to honor your father. Then she said

THUMP-SWISH! THUMP-SWISH! This is the sound the ventilator makes as it sustains life. To those crowded around in a very small hospital room, the sound seems to be counting away the seconds of a life. Every second begins to feel like days for the parents, grandparents, friends, family, significant other, and those nearest and dearest. As parents lay beside their child’s body, gripping them tightly, and sobbing while they lay lifelessly in their arms; the doctor educates them on the specific coma, irreversible coma (IRC), a classification of a coma where someone is within a state of being without any form of awareness along with no form of brain activity. They are essentially brain dead. Being brain dead refers to, a period of at least 24 hours or more, in which there is no cardiopulmonary activity, and any activity is being maintained through the work of a machine. Their child’s heart is slowly tugged along by the machine; even though, you are completely brain dead. Never again will this child be able to develop any fond memories with their loved ones. The rest of their life will consist of laying in that bed, unable to do anything, not even accomplishing simple tasks; such as, thinking. Loved ones will have to watch their lifeless body slowly wither away into a waxy, skeleton figure while he or she steadily die.

Imagine you’re at home and you get a call saying your Mother or Father had been in a terrible accident and are on their way to the hospital. You race to your car and meet them just as the ambulance pulls up to the emergency room and as they are led in and met with a swarm of doctors and nurses as they are wheeled into a room you’re left standing there in a haze as you witness people rushing around the room, monitors being hooked up, continuous beeping from machines. You look over to the doctor who is punching in codes on a machine and as they quickly finish up they states to another nurse that the machine has said that your Mother/Father only has a small 5 percent chance of survival and you hear them state whether or not to administer any sort

Meanwhile, Denise Darvall was in another operating room being prepped for transplant by Marius Barnard. She had an artificial respirator to help her breathe and to keep her alive. At 2:20 am, a message was sent to Marius that Washkansky was ready for the operation and Marius then switched off Denise’s artificial respirator. Twelve minutes later, Denise Darvall’s heart stopped

On 09/12/2016, I Deputy Daniel Pruitt was dispatched to 52455 West Highway 16 for an unattended death compliant. I arrived on scene st 6:45pm and meet with Creek County EMS unit 40.