The death hits you, but not like a ton of bricks, like I thought it would. It creeps up softly like a dark cold ocean until you feel it lapping around your ankles, tugging gently at your soul, insistent and subtle. It's rather sobering, especially when you realize you can still feel the warm sunshine on your face as the cold dark water numbs your feet.
We laughed a lot today, more than I would have thought. Perhaps when death is so close, the living cling ever closer to mirth, as if to stave it off.
I'm not sure my patient will make it much longer. I'm not an odds-giving woman, but I suspect his are poor. If he makes it through the night, though, he may last until his birthday on Friday.
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