Sanctity of Life

the hospital walls whisper Death's name
i feel Him
lurking beneath my bones
in the shadows of what they call terminal illness
slowly stealing each breath of mine as if it is my last
but don't we all come with an expiry date
a ticking time bomb lying dormant in our blood
each ready to detonate in their own way, in their own time
when the clock hits a specific hour
at a specific minute
at a specific second
down to the very millisecond at which it has been designed to explode

they tell me about a scientific breakthrough
"life-saving", they call it
but tell me, do any of us really hold the power to save a life

i refuse it

i refuse to look in the mirror
and see that i have morphed into just another statistic
just another figure for the world health organisation to publish
i have become the "one in three..."
have joined the ranks of thousands who have been reduced to just a number
and i refuse to accommodate it

they call it denial
i call it acceptance
because i do not want to embrace with open arms
a modern miracle
that is no miracle at all
because no miracle can prolong life

i am dying
at the same rate i was
before drugs and dosages became the only language i spoke
and no translator in the world could possibly slow it down
despite how loudly they claim it
my time has been written
introduction, main body, conclusion
complete with acknowledgements, references and bibliography
and a deadline extension is a myth i would be fool to believe

i am more than my diagnosis, symptoms, prognosis
i am more than estimated percentages and calculated risks
and just another occupied hospital bed
i may be hanging in the delicate balance between life and death
but aren't we all
because my scale could very well tip in favour of life
while yours tips in favour of death
and yet it was me against whom the odds were stacked

and tell me again about this scientific breakthrough
that could have changed it all
or do you not see that we are trying to chase time
we do not have

i do not want to spend my final months, weeks, days
confined to hospital beds and operating theatres
having what is left of my life
dictated by the prodding of needles and the invasion of tubes
having only murky white walls to fill my imagination
while the static of daytime tv dulls the silence
when i could be gazing at the bluest of skies or a star-riddled night
feeling the breeze of the ocean on my face or the sand in my hair
tasting the candied sugar of melting candyfloss
and hearing the ruckus of the world spinning
as it slowly tilts on its axis
taking me closer to the moment at which i let the last breath pass between my lips
knowing that i lived to be more
than the thing that took it
that i savoured the ticking minutes
not counting them or trying to add to them
but i lived them

and i won.