The Mad Man

A nurse feels most deeply the loss of a man. The insanity, the pain and death enters the conversation as she reflects on humanity

�" “What do you expect from someone that thought torture was a normal thing?”
�" “That’s crazy isn’t it? But what do you mean though?
�" “He believed to be a sacrificial lamb”
�" “Of what kind?”
�" “One used by the gods to show men that no matter what happens, or what the end might be, one must live life by fullest”
�" “Damn, he was crazy. How did he die?”
�" “Acording to his wife it was cyanide”
�" “Was he religious? Oh no, that’s obvious, right?”
�" “Actually he wasn’t. At the end, the fear of death took over him, and suddenly was pleasent to believe in something. He was psychotic though”
�" “Wow, some weird stuff going on. What made him believe that he was a lamb?”
�" “Oh, it’s just a hormonal disorder, dopamine goes to the wrong side of the brain and all hell breaks loose. Very normal these days, a lot of cases”
�" “Was it an easy death?”
�" “Sure, but he used to cut himself, the voices you know, tortured him. He thought that it was god talking is his ears and punishing him for being who he was”
�" “The family, when did they discover it?”
�" “Nobody did, he was quiet about it. It’s very normal that a lot of victims are introspective”
�" “I don’t know what to think, where do you suppose the voices come from?”
�" “They’re hallucinations”
�" “Could he see things?”
�" “No, just the voices”
The medic puts his hand on the man’s forehead.
�" “He’s dead cold”
�" “When did he die?”
�" “Yesterday, honey. Listen, I have to go now, another patients to look for”
�" “Terrible!”
She was young nurse, her first day on the hospital. This wouldn’t be the most macabre thing she’d see in the next few years, but it was striking how one could lose it’s mind and spiral down to a quiet hell that only he could find. It must be bad to feel alone in that world of his, she thought. Covered the body with the plastic and went forward to make a call to the family. Click, click, click. Phone’s ringing. On the other side of the line there’s a woman sobbing. The nurse could hear the children fighting.
�" “I don’t understand”, said the woman.
But the nurse could barely speak. She hung up. The world goes on without us as we walk unnoticed through the paved streets full of pollution and deafening horns. It runs immune to tears. The woman would forget her husband, the children would overcome childhood without a father. It must go on and on in our abscense. Pain is the only truth we bare, nothing else is constant. She dialed again.
�" “Hello”, sobs on the other side, the woman clears her nose.
The conversation goes on until the nurse has all the information.
�" “Wait”, said the woman �" “You’re such a good girl, is there anything else I can do for you?”
�" “No”, said she �" “We have all we need, thank you”
�" “He isn’t coming back”, cried the woman.
�" “No”, responded the nurse, feeling in silence the others pain.
The woman took a deep breath and said:
�" “You can go now honey, I’ll be just fine”
They hanged the phone at the same time. What is truth if not a painful reminder that the end comes for us all? She read once in the Bhagavad Gita that sage is the one who sees action on inaction, but was that man’s actions his final words? Is life to be worth it in pain? No one can know except he who felt it most strongly. We die everyday when we go to sleep and only then can we dream without pain, and even if a nightmare occurs, the pain will be silent, the same sort of the mad man.