Just
as we cannot choose the moment of our birth, so we cannot choose the moment of
our death. I am speaking of natural death, not suicide. For some people death is
a crash of glass and a crush of metal. For others it is a slow wasting away
with time to ponder the uncertain course of a life. For me, it was a quiet
surprise. Here is my story.
I
was working in a hospital records department. Newly toiling on the midnight
shift and not doing well with the change in schedule after three weeks. I
couldn’t sleep for more than four hours at a time and I was living on Red Bull,
Mountain Dew and my determination to make it through the night. Not to mention
strong coffee with espresso shots. In other words, I was a train wreck in the
making. My train left the tracks five minutes before the shift ended.
I
had always imagined that I would know when I was dying and that I would have some
time to prepare myself for the ending. Maybe think of some profound last words.
Something like “Oh no, not again!” or “ I have a $150,000.00 in gold hidden in
the…(ack, gasp, thud).” Or even make my peace with God. But that was not to be.
I looked up from my computer monitor and said to myself, “That’s funny, I feel like
I am going to faint.” I didn’t faint or
stagger out of my chair; instead I died.
Five
minutes before my shift ended, I was filling out my time sheet for the day. I
was weary from the shift change and anxious for the workday to end. It was my
37th wedding anniversary and I wanted to get home to rest before
going out to celebrate our marriage with my wife. As previously mentioned, I
felt faint. Two hours later I woke up as someone was inserting a tube into my
neck and I saw my wife looking at me with tear-filled eyes. My first thought
was; why am I dreaming this? My second thought was; am I awake? An assortment
of tubes, hanging bottles and beeping medical machinery soon convinced me that
something had gone horribly wrong. A great deal had happened in those two
hours. Here is the timeline that was told to me by co-workers and medical
people.
I
fainted as my heart went into ventricular fibrillation (V-Fib) and I ceased to
breath. The 400 beats per minute left my heart quivering spasmodically and not
pumping. This is where the chain of survival began. I collapsed against the
back of my chair with my face tilted up. There was a snoring sound as the last
breath left my lungs. (death rattle?) A co-worker was concerned and came over.
She said my eyes were open and fearful. Her quick thinking and response was the
first step in my survival. Employees at the hospital carry a card along with
their identity badge that lists the phone number to call for a Code Event. She
made the call.
Thirty
feet from the door of the Records Department is the office of Nursing
Administration for the hospital. The time clock where nurses swipe in their
badge is in that hallway. Around 7:00 o’clock there is an assortment of nurses
coming and going. There is also a crash cart in that hallway that is stocked
with an automatic defibrillator device (AED). Within moments of the Code Blue
there were medical professionals assessing the situation and performing CPR
upon my heart that had ceased to pump. Others were bringing out the
defibrillator to shock the heart from its arrhythmia. At one point there were a
dozen doctors and nurses working on me. I was told that CPR was performed on me
for ten minutes. I was flat lining and unresponsive. At some time after
resuscitation, I tried to leave. In the classic pattern of guys everywhere, I
insisted that I was fine and wanted to go home. Needless to say, I was sedated
for my own safety. I have no memory of this, but it rings true. I hate being
the center of attention when I didn’t instigate it.
I
have long thought of the timing that was central to my survival. At 6:30 there
probably wouldn’t have been nurses in the hallway. I might not have been
noticed if it wasn’t close to a shift change in the office with extra staff
around. Remember, seconds count. At 7:10 I would have been in the parking
structure or in the elevator far from help. At 7:20 I would have been in my car
heading for the expressway. I might have killed others. Every other time frame
leads to death or brain damage from lack of oxygen. There were quick thinking
people around. There was a defibrillator nearby. There were trained people that
responded. In so many ways, things could have followed a very different path.
As I lay there with my life flowing away, my co-workers were gathered together
praying for me. I believe that their prayers were part of my survival. Because
of the trauma and sedation that I experienced that time is blank to my direct
memory. But some things demand to be remembered. After I survived, I had a very
detailed, very vivid recurring dream. I think my brain had memories that
somehow needed to be processed. I believe this dream that I experienced, at
least five times in full detail, is a memory of an event that occurred as I lay
dying. My heart tells me so.
I
was walking down a great hallway with many side branches. The ceiling was very
high and vaulted. The walls were wainscoted with wood paneling above waist
height. The floors were carpeted, predominately a dark green with a vine and
flower pattern. Not brightly ornate, but rather familiar and comfortable. I
felt at home. It reminded me of an old German restaurant in Michigan that I
have been to a number of times. There were sconces giving off a soft light. The
air was filled with music of all sorts. I remembered that there were places to
sit for a bit, but there was a sense that the main hall was the way to the
destination. Down each cross hallway that I passed, I could hear music. Each
hallway had distinctive music coming from it. I remembered stopping a number of
times to listen. I liked the Baroque and the Zydeco. When I looked down the
hallways, I could see shadows in motion. It was like shadow puppets projected
on the walls. There were bright lights reflecting the movements like dancing or
there were undefined shapes playing along the walls. It seemed that there was a
party in a big room that each of the various hallways led to. I could not see
people directly, only their shadows. There were others in the corridor, but
strangely we didn’t speak to each other. I nodded and smiled to a lady
listening to Bach as I sat next to her. Her name was Margaret (?). I could hear
voices behind me that seemed familiar, but they were somehow annoying or
distracting. The voices were vexing me, continually calling my name. They were
telling me to come back. I did not want to go back. I wanted to get to the end
of the hallway. It was full of movement and shadow like the other hallways, but
I knew that this was the main one. I knew that I could go back to the other
rooms after I got to the main room. I just knew it. The journey seemed to be
going slowly, but my sense of time wasn’t urgent, only purposeful. The voices
nagged at me. And then things started to slip away. I no longer walked, but I felt
pulled back the way I had come. I remember being upset that I couldn’t move
forward. The voices became more persistent. Then they were gone. I was no
longer in the corridor. I was very sad and frustrated. Then the dream ended.
Does this dream mean anything? I
don’t know. It was very important to me in the days after I was revived. It is
still vivid in my memory. Was it only a dream? Is it the memory of a near death
experience? Is it a memory from a dying brain trying to process the loss of
oxygen and input? If I was an atheist or a Hindu, would the imagery be
different? I do know that I like experiences that create more questions than
answers. I also know that if I have to make a choice between random luck or
God’s Grace, I will take the power of God. He has carried me through some
difficult times, and I feel His presence in my life. The Lord has purpose and
plans that I might never know. Why was I saved, when so many others die from
cardiac arrest? The diagnosis was sudden cardiac death (SDC). That sounds
pretty final. It certainly wasn’t a reward for anything that I had done. My
wife Miriam thinks it is quite possible that it happened to encourage or give
hope to someone else. Perhaps it was for a nurse that had seen too much death
and needed to save a life. Maybe my story was for someone who feared dying and
might be comforted by my story. I know I feel different about death after this
experience. I value the small moments more than I ever had before. Enjoy the
beauty around you. Life is a gift. Make sure you that you take time to unwrap the
gift. I did not know that my world was ending when it did. There wasn’t time
for a deathbed prayer or a last grasp towards the hand of God. I didn’t even
know that I had died. Do I believe that there is something on the other side of
life besides oblivion? Yes, I do. Do I know what it is? No, I don’t. I do
believe that I caught a glimpse of something that I keep trying to understand.
