Five

I can still see those people die. Five so far. Mostly to disease, one to trauma. Unless you're in the medical field that's a lot. Three were my direct relatives. Two of them died pretty traumatically, one less so, at least not for those of us looking on. I saw one suffocate slowly while their organs shut down one by one. (Anyone reading this: don't smoke and if you do, stop). The other had been in car smash. He..wasn't in a car, he just got most of one wedged in his face. He wasn't recognisable when he died. He left a big empty space in me that's never been filled.

I nearly died, three times and no, I'm not taking the piss. On my deathbed I saw a man opposite me in a hospital bed die. I wasn't nice. It wasn't clean. He'd been very ill and wasn't conscious when he died, but his body knew. It was like he was getting big electric shocks one after another. Five, ten, I lost count before I passed out myself from either my own illness or sheer horror. That really got to me. Five was a man who again this time was in hospital when I was there. He walked in, talking, smiling and eating. He had Motor Neurone Disease. Three weeks later I was holding his hand as his lungs stopped working. I saw the blood vessels in his eyes burst, then his face, and lastly one of his eyes blew from the inside because of the swelling in his brain.

I'm certain other people have seen things they shouldn't but these I'll take with me to the grave. They were all terrifying. It's one of the reasons that I don't understand some people being cunts. There's no need. There are so many ways that life can end that the last thing you want is some random idiot to make it that bit more unpleasant. It's also the reason I can be a bit withdrawn. I know it's a cliché, but when I get close to someone and that person gets taken away, a piece of me dies. I an remember all of their names. Gustav, Maurice, Jette, Mr. Hetherington and Brian..RIP.