SUMMARY: Alright, this story was inspired by the 'Dead Letters' website
where random, anonymous people submit their last thoughts to the world upon
a theoretical "death", ie: what would you say if you had one last chance?
Another site started publishing 'Dead Letters' fanfic: characters from
'Buffy', 'Angel' and lots of other shows. (Sorry I can't think of the site
address at the moment, but it's around and it's great!) This leads us to my
story . this is Romano's "dead letter".
DISCLAIMER: I own 'ER' and all its' characters . oh no wait, I don't.
RATING: PG-13 for mild swearing, and, well . death.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: This is my first 'ER' fanfiction, so please, please review!!! I also want to thank all the wonderful Romano/Cordano authors on ff.net and across the web. Wow . just . wow. Your stories are truly brilliant. Now, onto the angst!
So that's it then.
Huh.
Somehow I expected it to be more intense, dramatic; something fitting of a man whose career thrived on blood, sweat and chaos. No such luck, I guess. Just a quiet little heart failure during a fairly simple surgery . though I suppose it is ironic that I died on the table where I spent most of my adult life working.
You know how they say your entire life passes before eyes as you die? It's true . but it's not a montage of noble moments or stunning defeats. There's no sudden epiphanies decoding the mystery of your existence, no meaning of life is set clear before you. You'll leave this world as confused and desperate and imperfect as when you entered it. Regrets are aplenty, and the whole dying thing leads to a plethora of "I wish I had" or "I never got to" during your last few seconds on Earth. Mine were mostly composed of that Bulls game I never got to see (and damn were those tickets expensive), the children I never got to have, the goodbye I never shared with you .
I know I did some stupid shit in my life. I hurt a lot of feelings, trampled quite a few egos, and I'll be the first to admit, I wasn't exactly the poster child for political correctness. I know I made a lot of people miserable, and God knows the folks at County are probably having a little party right now in honour of my demise. I might have been one hell of a surgeon, but I never really got the whole people/relationships thing. It was easier to be alone. To be lonely.
But I'm not bitter. And I can't complain about my life, even if my first marriage (back when I still had hair and my faith in humanity) didn't work out and I lost my arm in that damn accident. I got to visit the coast of Italy. I ran a hospital. I had a dog who loved me, sisters who could stand me, and colleagues who were at least extremely entertaining, in their own moronic way .
I think your voice is the last thing I heard. How cliché, huh . or maybe it was just wishful thinking. Either way, it was a nice way to go. Then, flashes of my life: childhood fishing trips with my uncle, rainy Sunday afternoons, the taste of iced tea, listening to jazz on the back porch, my first kiss, napping in the surgeons' lounge .
In retrospect, I guess I could have smiled a bit more. I could have been nicer to the med. students. I could of told you how I felt, and not in that drooly, anesthesia-induced way. Like I said before, lots of regrets . I may not have been a kind man, or even a good man, but I think I did manage to get one thing right.
I loved you.
DISCLAIMER: I own 'ER' and all its' characters . oh no wait, I don't.
RATING: PG-13 for mild swearing, and, well . death.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: This is my first 'ER' fanfiction, so please, please review!!! I also want to thank all the wonderful Romano/Cordano authors on ff.net and across the web. Wow . just . wow. Your stories are truly brilliant. Now, onto the angst!
So that's it then.
Huh.
Somehow I expected it to be more intense, dramatic; something fitting of a man whose career thrived on blood, sweat and chaos. No such luck, I guess. Just a quiet little heart failure during a fairly simple surgery . though I suppose it is ironic that I died on the table where I spent most of my adult life working.
You know how they say your entire life passes before eyes as you die? It's true . but it's not a montage of noble moments or stunning defeats. There's no sudden epiphanies decoding the mystery of your existence, no meaning of life is set clear before you. You'll leave this world as confused and desperate and imperfect as when you entered it. Regrets are aplenty, and the whole dying thing leads to a plethora of "I wish I had" or "I never got to" during your last few seconds on Earth. Mine were mostly composed of that Bulls game I never got to see (and damn were those tickets expensive), the children I never got to have, the goodbye I never shared with you .
I know I did some stupid shit in my life. I hurt a lot of feelings, trampled quite a few egos, and I'll be the first to admit, I wasn't exactly the poster child for political correctness. I know I made a lot of people miserable, and God knows the folks at County are probably having a little party right now in honour of my demise. I might have been one hell of a surgeon, but I never really got the whole people/relationships thing. It was easier to be alone. To be lonely.
But I'm not bitter. And I can't complain about my life, even if my first marriage (back when I still had hair and my faith in humanity) didn't work out and I lost my arm in that damn accident. I got to visit the coast of Italy. I ran a hospital. I had a dog who loved me, sisters who could stand me, and colleagues who were at least extremely entertaining, in their own moronic way .
I think your voice is the last thing I heard. How cliché, huh . or maybe it was just wishful thinking. Either way, it was a nice way to go. Then, flashes of my life: childhood fishing trips with my uncle, rainy Sunday afternoons, the taste of iced tea, listening to jazz on the back porch, my first kiss, napping in the surgeons' lounge .
In retrospect, I guess I could have smiled a bit more. I could have been nicer to the med. students. I could of told you how I felt, and not in that drooly, anesthesia-induced way. Like I said before, lots of regrets . I may not have been a kind man, or even a good man, but I think I did manage to get one thing right.
I loved you.