No Pulse

 

No Pulse

I went to the doctor.  He said I had no pulse, no blood pressure, no vitals at all.  He ordered an EKG and sent me to a specialist.  The cardiologist’s results were all flat lines, so he sent me to a neurologist, who could find no brainwaves.  A pulmonologist said I wasn’t breathing and a hematologist found no blood.  My physician looked at all test results and said it might be something serious.  He referred me to a good coroner.

            After my autopsy, I asked, “How bad is it, Doc?”

            The coroner said, “I have bad news.  You better sit down.”

            I asked, “Is it cancer?  Heart disease?  Is it my diet?  Exercise?”

            He said, “I’m afraid you’re dead.  There’s no cure, but there are a lot of promising new treatments, mostly experimental.”

            “Sign me up, Doc, I’ll try anything.”

            “You didn’t sign your donor card.  That’s going to be a stumbling block.”

            I asked, “Can I sign it now?”

            “I’m afraid not.  The dead have no binding signature authority.”

            I said, “I can pay.  I have money in the bank.”

            He said, “Your bank accounts are in probate.”

            “Will my insurance cover it?”

            “We called them.  They don’t honor claims from the dead.”

            I asked, “Well, what can I do?  Do I have any rights at all?”

            The doctor said, “You can still vote.  They’ll never take that away from you.”