Cheyne Stokes For Ordinary Folks

She rested still, her rattling breath a sentry for impending death, awakens those who share her room still fearful of their private doom. The nurse had ventured out and in her cheeks in a sardonic grin. 'You all must die some day, you hear? But do not fret and do not fear, as long as I preside and rule you may just lay your bits of stool inside the pan (but do not spill) , and read your bible if you will, the rattle you experience means in a real, mortal sense that Mrs. B. your mate and neighbour is in the tunnel, not in labour, Cheyne Stokes I call it, it derives from final twitches, bronchial hives, the body shuts its systems down, the heart is saddened, wears a frown. Both kidneys stop the flow of pee oh, have a look now, as you see saliva dribbles down her chin now SHE wears the sardonic grin, I urge you though, please do not speak, the dying can, though very weak, hear all the words and phrases said until you're well and truly dead.'