'Sara! Sara, Come Back! Don't Leave Me Here!'

Tragically, Gary Harvey of Horsehead, NY fell down the basement stairs in January of 2006 and received a traumatic head injury. Since that time, he has either been in a nursing home or in the hospital and is under the guardianship of the county. Ironically, the county, who claims to be looking out for their ward’s best interest, was involved in a so-called ethics committee decision that Gary Harvey should be starved and dehydrated to death. The judge over-ruled the call for execution of an innocent man, though a DNR (Do Not Resuscitate) remains in effect. Sara Harvey, Gary’s wife, is desperately fighting to get him home. One can only wonder how much he knows of what is going on around him. The following could be what he is thinking as he lays alone in that room, so isolated from the world he knew and the wife and friends he so loves. * * *

It’s so quiet. I think I hear someone walking down the hall. Do they know I am here? Where is my Sara? Why isn’t she here? I miss her voice and the special sound of her laughter. I miss her gentle touch. The gentle and tender touch that tells me she loves me and that everything is going to be okay. Why can’t I feel that now? Where is she? Why doesn’t she come to see me? Is she tired of me? Am I too big a burden? Is there someone else in her life now? How long have I been here? How many days have passed?

I’m sure of it. I hear someone walking down the hall. Are they coming to see me? Is it Sara? Why do they keep walking by? Don’t they know I’m here? Why doesn’t someone open the door and just say, “hi” and tell me that it is okay? Can’t someone tell me when my Sara will be here? When will she come to see me? I wonder if they would call her, if I ask?

I hear someone again. I hear them walking away. I want to call out. I’m trying to call out. Why can’t I? Why is there only silence? Am I dead?

No, I can’t be. If I were dead, I wouldn’t be able to hear them. I wouldn’t be able to hear their footsteps and the rattling of carts. I wouldn’t be able to hear their laughter and sometimes their whispers. So, why can’t they hear me? Why can’t I hear me? Why are there no sounds beyond the thoughts that ramble and torment? Sara! Sara, why aren’t you here? I need to talk with you. I need to know everything is okay and you still love me. Did I do something wrong? Did I make you hate me so much that you have left me here alone with them? Left me wherever this is? Left me alone to hear the echo of their footsteps and the isolation of such aloneness as I never knew was possible?

Sara, it’s cold here. It’s dark and there is no laughter to touch the moment. There is no you to say we are going home soon and that you love me still. You do love me, don’t you? We will be going home, won’t we? Is that you, Sara? Is that you that I hear walking down the hall? Is that you coming to take me home or to tell me when you shall?

Why are they whispering? Why are they saying I’m gone? I’m not gone. I’m here waiting for you. Sara! Sara, come back! Don’t leave me here. Don’t leave me in this darkness without you. I love you! I’ll always love you! I promise, I will be a better husband, if I wasn’t a good one before. Please, Sara, please don’t leave me here with them. I’m scared. I think they want me to die!

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Sara! Sara, Come Back! Don't Leave Me Here!

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