Finding this stone coffin in a local church, I couldn’t resist testing it out and as you can see, had I had medieval spurs on, it could have been chiselled out for me five hundred years ago!
Today I jokingly said to a friend, “Welcome to The Death Club!” because two days ago he was minutes away from dying. He’d been out walking and was bothered by a bee. Knowing he reacts badly, he had swiped at the insect and, frightened, it’d naturally stung him. Within a minute he could feel an anaphylactic shock beginning and returned home and was fortunate enough to find his wife still there as he lay down.
She questioned him and rang for medics who took ten minutes to arrive. In the mean time, she watched her husband start to shut down. His arms quickly went clammy and being a hospital matron, she understood the danger but could do nothing about it. It took the crew several attempts to revive him and he was so bad they rushed him to hospital where he spent the night.
The last time I lay where the dead should be was at the foot of my mother’s grave, which I’d helped dig. I simply wanted to know what the view would be like for her. I’ve also been in various wards where people died around me. Once, a friend did so in the next bed. Another time, another hospital, and they were dropping like flies in the sector where they kept me, so I escaped, calling my wife to remove me, preferring to die at home.
This isn’t a gloomy posting, but a cheery one, for you never know how much time you have, so enjoy it and if that means laying down in an ancient coffin, well, be bonkers and do it!
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