我为自己的遗嘱（I Wrote My Own Eulogy） - Bradely Dryburgh

Aug 7, 2026

Upload by Violet

Hospital emergency-room prologue where the narrator awakens to severe coughing and heavy bleeding in the bathroom, then urges his stepmother to call Triple Zero. Under the pressure of cystic fibrosis and an ambulance response, he reflects on life, mortality, and the discipline that usually carries him through early Sunday runs. The scene transitions from private fear to the clinical uncertainty of doctors weighing years of records, setting an urgent, candid tone.

LanguageEnglish

CategoryStory & Novel

FormatPDF

Pages236

Reading Time6 h 3 min

AccessFree to download

Prologue: Blessed with Bleeding Lungs

A hospital emergency room

The morning that turns urgent

Cystic fibrosis and the call for help

Thank you for downloading this Simon & Schuster ebook. Join our mailing list to get updates on new releases, deals, recommended reads, and more from Simon & Schuster. CLICK HERE TO SIGN UP Already a subscriber? Provide your email again so we can register this ebook and send you more of what you like to read. You will continue to receive exclusive offers in your inbox. [OceanofPDF.com](OceanofPDF.com) [OceanofPDF.com](OceanofPDF.com) To my wife and my family, you are my why. I couldn’t do life without you, nor would I want to. [OceanofPDF.com](OceanofPDF.com) ‘He who has a why to live for, can bear almost any how.’ –Friedrich Nietzsche [OceanofPDF.com](OceanofPDF.com) PROLOGUE: BLESSED WITH BLEEDING LUNGS I was staring at the ceiling of a hospital emergency room. The obnoxious, unrelenting sounds of medical machinery jolted me back into reality like a deﬁbrillator waking a sleeping heart. I’d spent the best part of an hour questioning how on earth I had found myself lying in yet another hospital bed with a plastic name tag on my wrist and some form of intravenous liquid coursing through the cannula wedged deep into my veins. Dried blood stained my chest, my lungs ached, and the paper-like bed sheets were doing little to warm my cold and broken body. Patients lay to the le֕ and right of me. Some of them looked and sounded like they wouldn’t see life on the outside again. And all of them wore an expression suggesting there were places they would much rather be. My eyes followed the doctors and nurses pacing from one end of the emergency room to the other, life slipping between their ﬁngersas they frantically ﬂ ipped through years of patient history and clinical notes within the ﬁles at the foot of each bed. I could see doctors scratching their chins in uncertainty. Others were engaged in conversation, digging through the ﬁles in search of clues to solve the mystery of life or death presented in the patient before them. I could also see that not all my fellow patients were such a mystery; the rigid posture and helpless eyes of their doctors suggested a lack of hope, or a bleak certainty, that they would now have to accept. To many, this existential environment could hold the feeling of imminent death. To me, seldom had I felt more alive than I did in that moment. The fragility of this environment reeked not of death, but of life. Life hanging in the balance, begging for one more go around, negotiating with what we know we should have done and promise todo, if we could get just one more chance at this beautiful dance we call life. These moments felt honest. The facial expressions and body language of my fellow patients couldn’t be dressed up, no matter how hard they tried. Eventually, their truth became obvious, there for everyone to see. Nobody fakes it till they make it out of a hospital bed. I closed my eyes in an eﬀort to recall the events of the morning. I remembered waking to the sound of my alarm. It was still dark as I opened one eye to peer out my bedroom window at the quiet street, which would be bustling with cars and pedestrians in just a few hours’ time. For a runner deep in marathon prep, early Sunday morning usually meant one thing: hours dedicated to a long, exhausting run. As consistent as Catholics ﬂocking to church for Mass, my Sunday service consisted of black coﬀee, electrolyte drinks and shitty energy gels that made me feel awful but sustained the misery of my screaming legs long enough to clock adequate time on feet. As always, I was determined to get out the door for a run with my mates. Most mornings, whether we were running or not, a group of us would meet [6 a.m. at](6 a.m. at) North Wollongong Beach. The ritual and accountability of this shared eﬀort made the discipline of the early mornings a lot easier. On this morning, however, my lungs had other ideas. Forcing my second eye open and rolling out of bed, I felt my chest immediately tighten, like

FAQs

为什么叙述者在急诊室里感到自己异常清醒？

他认为这些时刻不是死亡气息，而是生命的脆弱与平衡，反而让他在那一刻感到更“活着”。

叙述者早上发生了什么导致需要叫救护车？

他醒来后肺部出现严重不适，迅速开始剧烈咳嗽并咳出大量血，出血程度比以往更严重。

叙述者提到的药物Tranexamic acid用于什么？

他说明这种药用于帮助稳定血凝块并减少出血，然后他试图在紧急情况下服用。

Aug 7, 2026

Upload by Violet