the first time round i was vastly disturbed. i wrestled with heavy emotions for days, knowing that someone out there, someone that i have never met nor know of my existence, was dying slowly and there was nothing i could do about it. someone that i have held my hand out to save but in the end, all i could do was stare vacantly at my empty hands. it won't be the first time that i watched someone die, perhaps this time not with my own two eyes. shouldn't someone do a little more, shouldn't someone have said a little more, i kept asking myself each time. this is after all a human life we are talking about. not knowing exactly when, the value of a human life has cheapened over time. comparing with pets in faux fur clothes and weekly spa visits, our lives have been rendered worthless, insignificant even.

with all the knowledge and experience that i have garnered over the years, i thought i was finally in the position to be of use to others, what little i could be. i don't know much but i was more than willing to share what i have learnt thus far in life. i watched one by one leave, and with each departure, there was a story, of what could have been, of what was done wrong and what was done right. my head still rings from the cold dark echoes of disembodied voices floating around like lost souls. 'do you want us to resuscitate?', 'it's just a flu', 'she is not moving, what should i do?', 'he was a very fit man', 'he's not eating'. that was all the wealth that i had to contribute back.

she was sick, with lung cancer. that was something i knew a little about, having walked down the road with a survivor once. i knew the formula, i knew the secret. i thought, during that moment in time, here was someone that i could save, even if not with my own bare hands, but with what i know. the doctor was 80% confident, and in that game it was miraculous odds. but the family wanted to gamble, they threw away that odds for ............something. what, i can not even begin to fathom! given a chance of survival, they didn't take it and opted for an alternative. what could they probably be seeking for? i was brimming with frustration for days. comprehension was beyond me. life is so fleeting, how can anyone choose for death? the patient wanted the chance to fight, she wanted to go for the treatments only to be told no, it's not the best choice for you. not even when the doctor was 80% convinced. my heart bled for her. not because she was ill, not because she was old, but because her family didn't love her enough. i shiver at her helplessness.

i know, and i understand, that outsiders will never appreciate the stories behind each tale. what were they thinking? what happened to make them come up with the decision, i will never comprehend. they must have their own justifications, of that i am certain. valid or otherwise, i cannot judge as a third party. i am trying my hardest not to judge, not to scream at them inside my brain and strangle their imaginary necks for failing to hold on to their mother's hand, for failing to take this most valuable opportunity of a second chance.

when i am told the story the second time round, i have grown jaded. apathy moves in to replace helplessness. i no longer try to convince anybody of what is the correct path. i don't even want to hear if i was right. sometimes there are no victory in being correct. i hope for once i am wrong.