You know what makes me sick? You know what makes me so mad I just wanna go to an Exorcists’ garage sale… and buy up all their old Ouija boards?
Yeah – I read this story on Huffington Post the other day… they were saying more people are trying to die at home. It’s true. Ten years ago… more people died in the hospital. Now – people like to go home and die. They want to be surrounded by family an’ friends… in a familiar place… close to the heart.
That’s a beautiful thing. Unless you’re the family member that gets that room after they’re dead. That’s gonna wake you up in the middle of the night a couple times a week.
Now – this don’t mean much to me – on account of I come from a long line of men that keeled over at work. Pitts men not only work until we drop over… we’ve got a long history of actually dropping over AT work. But that being said… if I had my druthers… I would like to die in a hospital.
Number one… if I’m old enough and I die at home – there’s a better than 50/50 chance my old lady wouldn’t tell nobody an’ keep collecting my social security checks. I don’t want my grandkids finding my mummified remains in the bedroom closet when they come over for Thanksgiving. That could stunt a child mentally for quite some time.
Number two… hospitals are generally better equipped to help you NOT die. Like just about the time I flat-line… I’d rather see a team of professionals in white coats and a crash cart rushing through the door… instead of my old lady and little boy coming in with a car battery and jumper cables!
Number three… once you do die… hospitals are a lot more used to dealing with it. I would like to die in the hands of professionals. I’d hate for my old lady to think I was dead… and have to call the neighbor over for a second opinion.
Wake up, America. Yeah, I’d hate to have my wife an’ the neighbor-lady Naomi poking me with a stick half the night… to see if I was really dead. I’d like them to desist on the deceased. I’m Earl Pitts, American. Pitts Off.