The sound from the oxygenator swallows the room,
does the opposite of what's intended, making all of us
breathless. I can't stop staring at the air-bag. In the
dimness,
the in and out motion of opaque plastic is so slight I
imagine
it's fixed, not moving at all. But then I hear the
dreadful drone
of your harsh attempts to breathe, see the faint rise and
fall of
your frail chest and know it's working. However poor an
excuse
for a non-heroic measure, it's working.
wonderful description of the how the oxygenator "swallows the room" and "does the opposite of what's intended" This is a wonderful tribute and a fantastic example of true mindfulness.
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