Nurse Pierre is extra careful with me now; dimming lights, tenderly tucking the sheets around my feet. His soulful green eyes fill with tears whenever he looks at me. He no longer bends the rules or allows unscheduled nurse visits, not even from his friend Amanda. I send a telepathic request to Daddy and Anna. Please do something for Nurse Pierre after I’m gone. Dying has made me nicer. In the old days, I wouldn’t have remembered his name.

Pierre hangs and adjusts a new I.V. bag, and I wonder why bother? Why hydrate? It seems pointless to give sustenance to a body chugging down the assembly line to God only knows. This matter consumes my thinking. I’m desperate for logistics now that my number is up. What awaits me? Will there be others? Will I look like I do now, or will I revert to my original boobs and nose? Will I even have a body?

Is there anything after?

I enjoyed meeting Jesus Joe, but let’s face it, he was probably a hallucination, a reaction to pain meds. Anyway, he didn’t provide hard evidence.

Hopefully there’s someplace not painful or awful. I’m not asking for the Ritz. I’d be happy with an afterlife at the Embassy Suites.

Pierre turns on the radio, skips through the dial to The Dr. Dave Show. Together we listen while he goes on about his duties, emptying my waste, adjusting my feeding tube.

“What I’m telling you, friend is this: Success isn’t measured by the work you’ve accomplished or the money you’ve made. Can you imagine lying on your deathbed, wishing you had spent more time on the job?” Dr. Dave asks the caller.

I can answer that one. Definitely not.

“See, friend, at the end of the day, who cares whether you were the top guy at the firm? It won’t amount to a hill of beans if you’re not coming from love.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” Pierre murmurs as he wipes down my bed rails with disinfectant.

“Your life is a success,” Dr. Dave continues, “if at the end you can answer yes to two questions: Number one, did I love well? And Number two, have I forgiven my enemies?”

Um…what?

“Yes, friends, that and a dollar in the salvation army bucket will get you past the pearly gates.” Dr. Dave chuckles. And we’ll be right back with another caller after a message from Friskies, maker of Meow mix and other…”

Question: Did I love well?

Answer: I have loved so-so.

Question: Can I forgive my enemies?

Answer: A few. Maybe.

Where does that leave me?