Sundowning Diary - Part 3 by Farhad Mammadov - HTML preview

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Chapter 8

“European perch fishing”

Latvia, Jurmala, International Medical Center

Dr. Soborski hesitated to approach a women seemed to be not sad but raged with her husband’s death.  How the heck, he’s gonna tell her about his organ donation. She was standing in the dimly lighted waiting room of hospital with obvious tension on her face muscles. She hardly looked at others, staring at a white panel counter, then at glazed ceramic tiles of the floor, engaged in a mind games of how to terrorize the ‘head physician’.

Dr. Soborsky, in his sweaty olive scrub stood in front of her and introduced himself.

“Mrs.Avots I’m afraid to tell you that your husband has passed away. We did all our best. I’m sorry”

Shocked by the news, Flora grabbed doctors arm so firmly, his face went all red as tears were streaking down her cheek.

“But how,  I…Me…was..” – she stammered her excuse for being late.

“Its not your fault, he was all time unconscious after admission, I’m sorry to inform you that it was calmly executed suicide.  He intentionally burnt himself,  his burns were so severe he had almost lost 80-90 percent of his skin, there’s nothing we could do about it. I’m sorry”

“ I wanna see him, I wanna see my husband”

Soborski did his best to handle the situation, but this women seemed to be totally out of control.

“I’m afraid to tell you that, its not possible right now”

   They both looked back to identify the source of  noise of something smashing and cracking on the floor. It was a cordless work telephone unintentionally dropped by nurse, who tuck the phone between her ear and shoulder, writing a note simultaneously.  They focused back in conversation.

“What you mean by that, not possible” she said wiping of her tears.

“Mrs. Avots, I’m sure that would be quite news for you, but your husband was organ donor, I mean he enrolled for organ donation program before this incident.  Right now our team is retrieving the “thing”…

Words were too shy to come out of his mouse, he was hesitating to say “brain”

“Screw you, you must be kidding me, he would have never done this, organ donation, no hell,  I know my husband.”

Soborski  did his homework,  so came  prepared with red folder on his right hand,  which until that moment had been only insignificant detail of so called dialogue.

“Here is your husband’s written consent… he did donated his brain for medical research purposes, for treatment of  Alzheimer and Dementia patents. Body will be handed over after procedure”

“I  forbid you…Don’t!”

“Mrs. we  don’t actually need your permission. We learned he filed for divorce before committing suicide , so technically you have no right to obstruct this donation. You just sit there tight, and we’ll let you know when we’re finished. It won’t take long, I assure you. 20-30 minutes tops. I’m once again sorry for your loss”

“You bastard”  -    she jumped on him like a rabid dog, slapping, scratching his face and screaming at the same time. Doctor didn’t hit him in self defence, trying to ward off next blow. All medical staff and relatives (of patients)  in the waiting room agitated by the scene, the nurse who just dropped the phone  ran for help. Doctor reached for his left pocket, picked something and handed to a nurse. Nurse without questioning, injected it into shoulder of frenzied woman. It was a  strong sedation shot that made her pass out within a seconds.

***   ***    ***

The glimpse of less blue more green sea,  sensing of salty humidity and scent of a grease from a previously  caught  fish,  supported by gust of a strong wind stabbing from the neck, an old fat man mumbling something inaudible with rod in his hand, checking the drag on the line. I was sure I’d never seen him before. I looked around but this time there was not any sign of my limbo pal Herman.   But scenery was really breathtaking.

“I told you son, perch would bite the best before the rain, didn’t I?”

Why the  heck did he call me his son and why I was holding fishing rod same as him, like a pro. Until this moment I didn’t have any slightest  idea or clue about fishing. That was what any kid my age would have wanted to be part of, but not me  for sure.

It was late afternoon and shadows had already begun forming on the water. I dropped the red coated carbon fibre rod off, and made huge effort not to lose my balance as I was standing on uneven, rough and slippery  rock that had been dampened by occasional high waves.

Although not so easily  accessible from the shore the set of highrising rocks , were stretching along the shore 25-30 meters,  convenient spot for old school fisherman, because it served frontwall for deepwater  seething with  fish and eliminating need for long casting from sand.  He wore green, bulky overalls, just like me.

“Why did you drop your rod, son. How many times did I tell to be careful with this set I bought from Japan. 320 dollars son, 320 dollars, almost 20 percent of my monthly income. I’m not a kind of person to waste his money on weekends. You should learn your fisherman alphabet,  Herman. Don’t disappoint me.”

Herman? Ok then. This must be used to be father of  my friend. Suddenly he jerked his rod,  like he felt tug on his line and began reeling  fast.

“Where are we and what year is it ?”

“Ha?” – he turned facing me but old hands still doing his thing, pulling the line. He sounded astonished though. “What did you say?”

Another tug, this time savage one , that almost pull the rod off his hands.

“Holly-molly. That’s must be something big.I think I’v hooked it.  Son we’ve got a bonus, can you believe it. We gonna catch a big fish today. Mother of bass, maybe.What a luck.”

It was out a long distance. He started fighting this fish, gave another jerk and reeled and raised pole up high to keep resistance off the line.

“What you’re waiting for, bring the net”

“He’s right, you better hurry” I heard familiar voice from behind. It was him – the very Herman in person, sitting on a wet flat rock and smoking with a heinous grin on his face.

“So where are we now Herman, another day from your childhood “paradise”. Last time you said by eliminating your depressing school time memory, I’ll wake up from coma.”

“Hey, what take you so long. I said bring the net” – Herman’s father said furiously raged.

“You’d better hurry, Tural.  Don’t get him angry, you cannot miss that moment – its brilliant. His gonna get the biggest trophy of his life…”

I was moving really slow and carefully watching every step, not slip and fall down from the edge. From look on his face, he was already  smash me into pieces for acting slow. He wildly grabbed the net from my left hand seeing me staggering . 

Something  big popped up from the water and  splashing  the water and resisting .  Herman’s father  made his best to bring the big fish up from the depth  but  the fish retaliated  by a sudden pull that  made him loose his balance and slip off the rock into the sea.

 “Oh my God !” – although I knew this was not real, I was shocked by  the fact that person  just fell from edge and his probable going to drown.  “What should I do? What should I do?!”- there was no sign of him on the water, just white  blanket of bubbles on the surface  and carbon fiber rod drifting by the rocks. I looked around saw nobody but his son Herman, indifferently  witnessing the whole incident.  But this time no smile on his face.

“ What did you do to save him?”

“Hmm…Who me?...I did nothing, I can’t swim you know. I just stood there and watched”

“But we cannot let him die like this. Its inhuman.

“No…that’s ok, he died many years ago…on the other hand you can ask for help, you see a man diving  100 to the east.  I see his dark snorkel from here, maybe he could help you”

“Screw you, I’m going to save him myself, you heartless piece of shit”

“But don’t forget you’re wearing overalls” he said as  I jumped from the edge.  I forgot the fact that with overalls on me I’ll not be able to swim and water will fight to fill inside those overalls eventually pressing me downward .

Even best swimmers cannot rise to the surface  with  heavily leaked overalls. After first touch with water, I felt heavy burden on my body,  pressure bludgeoning my  nostrils, and cold liquid rapidly  filling inside,  turning my overalls into balloon  as I was submerging gradually. 

Death through suffocation in a turbid waters of  Baltic sea, not exactly what I was hoping for.  Moving my cupped hands through the water , didn’t help me to push to the surface, fastening submersion instead.

According to Orlowski J. drowning is caused by an inability to maintain the airway clear of water long enough to breath normally. If you normally save some air in your lungs, you somehow increase your chances of survival, thus your lungs serve kind of lifejacket helping you ascent. No air in the lungs,  you better pray there’d be someone by you, because you will be crushed by a panic attack, that would make you breath in water instead of air and you’ll pass out. 

Aspirating up to 0.5 liter of seawater, your lungs would lose its normal functioning posing risk of kicking the bucket.  Expiring  oxygen level or increasing carbon mass,  is not the main issue in terms of for how long you’ll be able to   hold your breath.

The main factor is  buildup up nerve impulses from respiratory lung cells to particular center of brain responsible for respiratory control. In other words,  static lungs of yours complain to your brain, that something is not right. Agony of suffocation in real is one thing,  drowning in a mid-comma condition  through  other person’s life experience, mixture of bad memories is another thing.

Although, water was turbid from wild stream and winds, I  could see  Herman’s father lying on the seabed with no vital signs.  I was still holding my breath relentlessly  hoping for help.

Suddenly I felt a shadow moving behind me, like someone or something was going to catch me. I turned to face half rotten face of a deadman  with half exposed skull right under my nose,  in a diving suit. Terrified and shocked I  screamed, giving out army of bubbles, eventually breathing in the water. Dead diver trying to explain me something by persistently pointing to his wrist, as I was gradually suffocating but my eyes yet fixed on him. This time he approached and grabbed me with cold  fingers once again asking for something with strange hand gestures. Seconds later, I blacked out.