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The Late Great Me
« on: September 18, 2008, 01:18:53 AM »

Here is a short story describing my experience of a near death and actually being pronounced dead only to be sent back to live some more…these few chapters are the absolute truth as I know it…I have posted this story before, about 3 years ago but it was a shoddy recounting in bad grammar…it was a prequel to my bibliography of going through a life with closed brain damage and being crippled…

The complete book is 44 chapters long and it’ll take up too much space on this site to post all 89,000 plus words…the reason why I wrote all this down was to make it clear to myself who I am and my purpose in life…

For many years these initial memories were suppressed but I lived my new life with great passion...the experiences revealed themselves to me as if it was on a need to know basis and finally about 8 years ago I started to know and see the truth…I just knew that I knew and I now live in the full glorious colour of life…

I’ve posted the opening chapters and my conclusions can be found in the epilogue that’s the last notation in my book…a kind of reminder to myself that I can only love for who I am…

I’m not trying to change anyone’s beliefs or lives…I’m just telling it, as I know it to be…

What is the definitive outcome and what waits on the other side of mortality’s unexplained entrance? What happens when a person dies and ends their time on earth, as we know it to be, when they die alone? Is death the conclusion of your acuity as your body is dead to the world? Does one wake in some other part or circumstance, with their individuality intact? Did reality shift for me or was there some kind of psychological disorder?

Consciousness manifested itself in inconsistency, survived death and transcended my earthly reality and was not confined to this dimension. Although I am able to understand and know what I know, I don’t have euphoria about feeling special or a chosen one.

To truly understand the exchange of ideas in this recounting, you have to suspend religious dogma and scientific inflexibility.

My beautiful machine lingered for me in the cheerful sunshine, all that chrome and paintwork. A shimmering beauty, like a magnificent lissom cat, poised ready to compete with the breeze in pursuit of my happiness. I swung my leg over her saddle and just sat there wondering about my 17 years and what other pleasurable treats life was going to throw at me.

It was 07h55 and it was already 28 degrees Celsius in the shade.
I looked at an old man climbing onto his Vespa scooter, wearing shorts, t-shirt, sandals and a piss-pot helmet. I speculated what would happen to him if he wiped out.

I closed my eyes and had a cold shiver run down my spine.

He kick started his wheels and rattled off in a cloud of two-stroke smoke.

I laughed quietly to myself and wondered what it was like to be so old.

My full leathers felt good against my skin as I thought to myself:

This outfit I’m wearing will probably save my life one day but will be hell to wear in mid- summer.

I zipped and buckled up my jacket to a balanced fit.

Spring had just sprung and summer was just around the corner.

I pondered the latest problem I had in my life:

I hope I catch my brothers later on this evening when I wake up for work. I’ve got to ‘rattle their cages’ a tad about putting things back where they found them, I keep finding my records mixed up and what are they doing playing my stuff in the first place, little shits. Well it can’t be my sister she doesn’t even like my kind of music, doesn’t even like me, suppose if I ask her she’ll probably give me the cold-shoulder.

It must be difficult to be her age and a girl; mind you it’s difficult being my age and a guy. I don’t know when I’ll see my dad again, he’s up and around all hours chasing around thieves and goodness knows what else, cops always keep to themselves but I know that some of them are the worst crooks around. My most favourite person in the world is spending a lot of time setting up this new boutique of hers. She should slow down a bit; I don’t want Mom to work herself to death.

I secured my helmet.

Good times couldn’t get better than this, all my life I wanted to be a train driver, now I was a senior assistant. I had just written my exams and knew I had passed I was a step closer to driving those 6E’s and then those 7E’s. At the moment I was shunting with 1E’s and Studebakers and assisting with mainlines, links on 5E’s. I got the odd yo-yo to assist on as well. One dream come true and my other dream, this breathtaking machine between my legs, a kind of a wicked bliss.

I pulled on my gloves, fastened them and I fired up the spectacular creature. She roared into vivacity and settled down to a steady purr. A quick glance at my watch confirmed that I would be home in about 15 minutes to get some well-deserved rest.

I had to do my last night shift then I would be on my days off. I could go for a ride down to the beachfront, probably take a tent with me and sleep there for a night or two. I snapped the visor down, twisted the throttle and I plunged forward. We were one, poetry in motion. I took in the road ahead and thought my way along its familiar course:

Yes this was great, just had to get past the old fellow in that car then I’ll have an open road…come on babe, you can do it…just twist the wrist a bit then I’m gone…hang on a second…crank it down again…damn it, that guy is supposed to stop…these idiots that drive around in those delivery vans think they do own the road…that smug dick-head…now he’s come forward some more, can’t he see me coming…I’ve got my lights on bright and I’m wearing black leathers and it’s broad daylight…now he’s clipped the old fellow…too late to stop…I’ll just drop my beauty to the left in a skid…too late for that…oh -, one of my worst nightmares is about to come true…
I perceived what happened to me when I died; I identified fervently with my physical body, but was surprised to observe, this is only to some extent the meaning of life. It was revealed to me that we are not only physical matter but also a spiritual essence. I learned that we are essentially spiritual beings that possess a physical body and upon dying we in fact discard our physical body as one might take off a jacket and we are all the same dynamic.

Our bodies endure in the physical world, which makes us aware of our mission and development in this world, as we know it. Thus it offers us sustenance, motivation and enjoyment.

In the same way, there is a spiritual dimension of the universe the invisible spirit world and this serves as the environment for our spirits.

Our spirit is the internal equivalent to our physical body, and the spirit world is the invisible equivalent to the physical world. This world is located not in heaven or hell, but in a different dimension. While on earth we exist in both worlds at once, in effect connecting the two.

It’s a mater of documented detail I died twice that day, once at the scene of the accident and again in the hospital emergency room.

I entered conditions of altered perception and had memories of most impressions while being in this state of suspension; including specific elements such as out-of-body experience, pleasurable, satisfying and amusing feelings, seeing a passageway to continue a journey, a radiant illumination, deceased people and a candid assessment of my past life.

Now automatically and instinctively I was going to fight to be in this world. It’s inconceivable to the conscious mind that any other reality could possibly exist beside the practicalities of matter limited by time and space. I was used to it as we all are.

I had been taught since birth to live and thrive in it and I knew myself to be myself by the external stimuli I received in developing myself. With every breath I took, life dictated to me who I was and I accept its influence. That was also automatic, and was to be expected.

My body went motionless and my heart stopped. My breathing stopped. I lost sensation, vision and movement and my capability to hear went last.

My identity ceased. The "me" that I once was, became only a memory.

There was no pain at the moment of death, just quiet; gentle awareness, a relaxed mood and I still existed.

When you die you only lose your body. I was not expecting to die right then.

There was a quickening of energy the split second I died. A radical progress in my speed as if I was suddenly more full of life.

I didn’t cease to exist when I died; I shifted my perception and rhythm.

That's all death was . . . a transfer.

I was aware of the spirit realm, in the substantial standpoint, with the literature that I had understood and being associated with a few clairvoyant or clairaudient concepts. This minuscule knowledge I had acquired in my 17 years, enhanced my perception of the realisation of my death.

At first I was bewildered by this new intelligence, but then I knew instantly that I was dead although I didn’t want to die. I was transferred from a state of shock, extreme physical pain, and the steely taste of my own blood to being upbeat and perfectionism. I saw brilliance, love, happiness and peace and had a cessation of pain. My mental picture was without limit.

Hey! There’s my little Brother waiting for me, now I can finally meet him, looks like he’s been expecting me. While I’m full of life, I’ll just have a look around and see what I can see, from up here and had a glance toward that highway ahead. It looked well designed, what a bizarrely satisfying prospect, all that affectionate illumination. Reconciliation with the past and back there was just chaos.

I was in contact with my Brother:

“Hang on a second Leon; I’ll be with you right now, just got to have a look-see at what’s happening.”

A swift glance back to just make sure of the acceptance of my fate, nonexistent, slumped in sight on the tarmac, in the wake of my looming exodus.

I wondered if they could hear me if I tell them the truth, let me give them a shout. I was able to hear and see everything in the physical happening down on the tarmac but they couldn’t seem to hear or see me. Hang on just a bit, I can identify with that lady down there and her name is Pamela but she likes to be called Pam. I conveyed to her:

“Hello Pam, my name is Dave, my heart has stopped beating, so you don’t have to try to stop the blood anymore. Tell that man who’s trying to resuscitate me to stop, because he’s doing more damage than there already is. Some of my left ribs are cracked and pushing down on my chest will only make matters worse, anyway it wont work because the helmet is in the way and he has to blow to resuscitate. The ambulance is about to arrive and medics will sort it out.”

Pam recoiled, wiped away the tears, smiled and revealed in self-confidence:

“He says we must wait till the medics get here. And be careful with the C.P.R because the ribs are damaged on the left side and you’re just making it worse by pushing down on his chest.”

“Thank you so much Pam,” I gratefully said.

“It’s ok Dave, only a pleasure,” She said looking down at my face.

The man in the suit wiped away the sweat from his brow and looked up with a bewildered frown and with discouraged voice said:

“This guy is dead, so how can he speak to you? How do you know his name is Dave? The ambulance always comes too late anyway.”

A siren permeated the atmosphere in a short burst to clear a way.

“Here it is right now.” Replied Pam in increasing excitement.

A man and woman hurried out of the ambulance and ran to where my body was sprawled on the tarmac. The man pulled off my left glove and felt for a pulse.

I saw his features change from expectation to wrath and then melancholy as he looked to his partner and shook his head.

He asked the crowd:

“Does anyone know when this guy stopped breathing?”

Pam exclaimed:

“Well, he just spoke to me and said that the ambulance will be here shortly and told me the medics will sort him out.”

The woman medic replied:

“That’s amazing we were just around the corner and took this short cut to get on the highway and saw this accident.”

“He’s been dead for all of three minute’s now.” The man in the suit sighed.

“No time to waste then!” the male medic exclaimed, and with a smile on his face he returned from the ambulance carrying shears and a portable defibrillator.

The medic cut away my jacket and my shirt with the shears and turned to his partner. He said with concern:
“Right we’ve got no pulse and a damaged rib cage, possibly broken on the left side with internal damage. Fire up the defibrillator, and let’s see what we can do. Please give us some space people!”

The machine hummed as it charged up and then the medic placed the conductors on my chest. The charge surged through my body.

“Got a pulse!” bellowed the medic. “Now I’ve just got to stop all this blood.”

I explained to my little brother I had to go back there again, he had release me then please, but there was so much happiness, love and harmony here. I wished I could have stayed for a while and share some more.”

I had severed my artery on the right side of my neck when I went through the van’s passenger window and exited through the windscreen. The blood was spurting out of the laceration like a fountain with every heartbeat.

“Here, use this.” said Pam, and handed the medic her bra she slipped off. It had the elasticity to be used as a tourniquet. 

The choice to come back was mine exclusively. I had an exasperating compulsion to fulfil an objective that I had. Making love was compelling at this juncture of my existence. My Mother always told me it was a beautiful thing between two people, my Father’s theory was foreign to me and my Grandparents said it was a sin. The champagne in my veins I had experienced first hand, revealed itself differently. I wanted it to be superfluous in an entirety. I wanted to explore this stage of adulthood to its farthest.

I wanted to become that train driver of my childhood dreams and I wanted to ride with the wind in my hair with that horsepower between my legs, neatly packaged with all that chrome and paintwork. I had to establish the pecking order in my household. Unrealistic it would seem but at the time, this reasoning was foremost in my life.

The impact on my body of all those volts was comparable to slamming into a swimming pool from a dizzy height.

My drifting motion was immediately impeded, and then an impact and entering a cold environment. Then it continued, taking in all that physical pain.
A shut down of your thought process and nervous system because it couldn’t manage the pain and then darkness.

Before I blacked out, I was angry, unlike the peace I’d come from:

Like hell I’ll just calm down, where’s my bike? Is it ok? Cost me a lot of money you know and I had my lights on bright and that guy driving that car didn’t seem to even see me coming, typical motorist I hate them, at least he cant get away with my bike buried in the side of his van, how come it didn’t explode like in the movies, please don’t touch me anymore, it’s too painful.

Can’t you people mind your own business and just leave me alone, anyway I’m tired and want to sleep now, got to go to work tonight, got the Umbilo shunts, easy job, goodbye!

A velvety darkness engulfed me.

I didn’t encounter any reckoning or commanding intelligence at the moment I changed my perception and rhythm. I remembered seeing my brother as an infant in the smallest of coffins when my parents buried him after he was born but the instant he appeared next to me I knew him.

I came to terms with where I was. The other essences appeared to be close friends of mine but were busy with other assignments. It appeared to me that my brother was waiting in anticipation of my arrival at his side and was wholly passionate to get me on my highway to dissimilarity.

It was rather difficult to make the decision to return, however, I had my obsession.

Intermittently I shifted back to consciousness. When I was cognisant I couldn’t communicate or move about. I heard said:

“This guy’s blood pressure is still low and the heart beat is erratic again but he’s still breathing. I’ve just checked the rest of him; he has a broken right arm and a broken left leg as well. I see from his I.D. he’s a railway patient, but don’t go to Entombeni hospital, too much traffic this time of the morning, take us to Addington, they can transfer him when he’s stable!” he shouted to his partner.

I heard the woman’s voice in the cab behind me.
“November, Papa, Alpha two-niner, en route to South Beach with this one.”

The radio crackled back.
 “Affirmative two-niner, change to channel fourteen.”

I heard a clicking of dials.

“South beach, come in, do you copy?”

“Copy you. Send.” The radio replied.

“This is two-niner…en route to you… picked up a M.V.A. male casualty… railway patient…revived at the scene…lacerated neck…severed artery… substantial haemorrhaging…suspect broken ribs and suspect internal injuries…broken right arm and left leg…blood pressure is low…heart beat irregular…inserted ventilation pipe and breathing is easy…casualty still wearing a helmet and it looks damaged on the left side…didn’t attempt to remove it at the scene…possible head injury…administering a drip now to reduce dehydration…E.T.A. 15 to 20 minutes.”

“Copy that two-niner you just get him here and we will fix him up.”

The siren was easy to hear and loud, and I felt the ambulance pitch roughly but I was secured inflexibly.

My thoughts raced irately,

Why don’t these people just let me sleep? I only closed my eyes a while ago and now all this commotion and racket has woken me up again, now I cant move at all being tied down like this. Yes I am awake again and I don’t think I can take too much more of this pain, it hurts all over, I can’t lift my head because there is pipe down my throat. What the hell did you put it in there for?

The medic leaned over and said to me:

“Well David, it’s me and you now, I’ve done all I can for you, don’t you go and kick the bucket on me now. Christ it was a miracle when you came alive after I shocked you, looks like you have a will to live and I don’t know how you are living right now? Just hold on a little longer now, so we can get you to the hospital and they can sort you out. I have to tell my little girl about this when I get home tonight.”

I much-admired his dedication.

I thought to myself:

Let me have a look at this fellow, I’m so tired.

I looked into concerned green eyes and I heard him bellow back to his partner:

“Hey Julie, you should see this guy! He’s smiling at me!”

That siren is driving me crazy and I’m getting very hot just laying here on my back.

I can’t get this jacket off and no; I don’t think I’ll kick the bucket before I get to hospital. Seems all you guys are worried about is, me losing so much blood.I can hear you know. Of course they can fix me, these days they can fix most things and I’m sure they’ll be able to fix me. I need a drink of water all I can taste and smell is blood, and this damn helmet is heavy, can’t even tell them to be quiet.

“What’s the time now Julie and how far are we?”

“08h27 Tommy, Addington’s just around the corner, two minutes now”

Abruptly my anger turned to acceptance:

So his name is Tommy and her name is Julie and he has a little girl. I wonder if she has any kids?

The swaying of the ambulance was serene and the siren was piercing.

We lurch to a screeching halt and the doors at my feet crashed open.

“We’re here now, David.” Tommy said.

I was heaved out of the ambulance into the blinding sunshine and searing heat.

A strange patience and staying power overwhelmed me and the pain was acute.

I was on familiar terms in my opinion:

I think if I fall asleep again the pain will go away. I have to get up at 18h00 to go to work. I hope I can still start my beauty after all this sh*t; first I’ve got to sort out my brothers.

That comfortable velvety darkness swallowed me up again.

I shifted into consciousness, more of a distrustful awareness. People were touching me and I didn’t like to be touched by others, especially when they kept me awake. My acknowledgment I couldn’t express and it pissed me off:
I had to work tonight but first I had to sort out those little sh*ts.

I felt them working on me and tried to make sense of it all. I had never felt so weak in my life.

Feels like they’re ripping my arm off and apparently someone is hitting my knee with a hammer, such a nuisance, at least I can move now, let me see what’s happening now the room I’m in seems to be passing around me, as if I’m being dragged around by my neck and there’s heat radiating, a bright light shining down on me, at least the damn helmet is off. Jesus I can hardly breathe with this thing around my chest. How can it be so painful?  Now please leave me to sleep, got to get more sleep.

There was that comfortable darkness again.

I was mindful again, this time not an acute vigilance but slowly growing lucid. It was comparable to watching an approaching steam engine. It stopped next to me with all the reverberation and shows signs; steam was belching out its sides, burning and permeating my senses.

As the steam engine approached my awareness, the pain in my body escalated from a dull throb to a blinding agony. Then I was furious because I couldn’t get any sleep and I couldn’t enunciate. I heard the beep-beep of a heart monitor, a gentle tugging on my neck, my right arm and both legs felt cold and wet, and there was an overpowering smell of surgical spirits.

A refined expert voice enquired:

“Sister lets go over the fact sheet with this patient. Start from the time he was picked up.”

I felt the covers being pulled off me:

“Jesus, look at the size of this guy and he looks so young, do we know how old he is?

I was 6’4’’ weigh 263 lbs, a product of my environment. My environment encompassed; excellence in school sports, amateur athletics and rugby, in my developing years progressing to National competition. A junior life guard at the local beach front and spending hours and hours, since the age of 13, in a gym to boost my body mass.

I understood and experienced that to be able to compete and win, I had to be bigger and stronger than the competition and I loved to win, therefore, I took great satisfaction in developing my robustness to achieve this contentment. My body was a fine-tuned machine, proportionate to balance, poise and functionality.

A ruffling of paper and a woman replied:

“Certainly Professor Earle, patient’s name is David Maas, 17 years old, a railways employee. Do you want the ambulance report first?”

“From the beginning please.” The professor reiterates.

“Ambulance number N.P.A. 29 arrives on the scene at 08h09 and finds the patient deceased, the medic utilizes a defibrillator in resuscitation and a heart beat is established, immediate complications of severe haemorrhaging from the right side of the neck are alleviated by using a tourniquet of sorts, a bra passed to the medic by a bystander.”

The professor laughed quietly. I loved the sound of his chuckles.

The Sister continued:

“The medic reported a cracked helmet; suspected a head trauma so didn’t remove it, a damaged rib cage on the left side; suspected internal damage. The medics suspected further broken bones in the other extremities; the patient was immobilised, secured to a stretcher and placed in the ambulance. At this stage patient was unconscious. A check of external extremities whilst he was in the stretcher indicated a broken right ulna and radius just above the wrist and a broken left femur just above the knee”

“En route to the E.R. the patients breathing become laboured and a ventilation pipe was inserted and oxygen supplied, breathing became less laboured a saline drip was administered to the left side in the hand to combat dehydration. The patient was still unconscious, and pain management was unnecessary. Blood pressure was low and heartbeat was erratic. At 08h26 a change was observed, the patient became conscious but was unable to move, tried to communicate, smiled and became unconscious again. Arrival at Addington, 08h29 and handed over care to E.R.”
The gentle tugging on my neck had become excruciatingly tangible.
“And now the hospital report professor?” she enquires.

“Carry on Sister,” he purred back.

“The supervising E.R. doctor ordered blood to be administered intravenously, blood type O. Immediate attention was given to the severed artery and was repaired in the E.R. while the patient was unconscious. An anaesthetic was connected to the I.V. at this point should it have been required.”

“The staff nurse in the E.R. then cut off his clothes and it was discovered there was significant bruising and swelling of the left thigh and the right shin. The patient was then wheeled to x-ray to confirm a broken left femur above the knee fortunately a clean break, a greenstick fracture of the right fibula, and a broken right ulna and radius above the right wrist”
“He was then taken for a lateral chest X ray to rule out a pneumothorax, hemothorax, and evidence of pulmonary contusion. X-rays established an anterior break in one rib on the left side and 2 cracked ribs on either side of the broken rib.

“There was no suspicion of an underlying injury due to the broken rib and no evidence of chondral separation. Patient was still in an unconscious state and was brought into theatre to have the lacerations on his neck sewn up, the broken bones set and a Velcro Rib Belt fitted to help with immobilisation, an anaesthetic is still available intravenously for pain management.”

 “That’s as far as the report goes. The Orthopaedic surgeons removed the helmet and have just finished readjusting the femur, he put in a stainless steel pin to stabilise the left knee and had a few problems with lining up the ulna and radius, which was when he regained consciousness briefly and smiled at us, as we applied the anaesthetic he dropped off again. He has just finished fitting the casts and now we’re just waiting for the plaster to dry before we move him again. We called you in to check this crack on his head here on the left side.”   

Professor Earle enquired from behind me, who was examining a spot on my head and causing me further pain:
“Doctor Cotzee, how far are you with those stitches of yours?”

“We have to get this fellow in for a scan to see what kind of brain damage we have, this dent in his head is a large one and I think he’s going to have problems in the future.”

“Just busy tying the last knots now, hang on a few more minutes.” Doctor Cotzee mumbled.

At this point through a haze of pain and sort of comprehension, I realised something was wrong and I tried to find out what was happening here with me. I opened my eyes slowly to have a look-see:

I don’t recognise anybody, still can’t talk with this damn pipe in me at least I can move my left arm. Don’t look so shocked woman, all I want to know is what’s happening, all wearing masks, smells fresh in here and they’re talking at the same time. I can only understand one at a time.
I had to muster every iota of strength I had to just sit up after I opened my eyes.

I heard a growl of disbelief:

“Quickly administer anaesthetic, push him down again, I wonder how long he’s been awake?”

So much pain can’t stand this. Doesn’t anyone understand me?

My heart stopped and my breathing stopped. I lost sensation, vision and movement and my capability to hear went last.

“I’m not going to let this happen on my shift!” The Professor expressed in incensed dismay.

“Charge up that defibrillator!”

My physical once again ceased to exist and there was that same hush, calm realisation and peaceful ambience and I remained me.

The instant I heard the flat lining wail of a monitor, I looked down at that mayhem below. This time the commotion surrounding my corpse was in a much more controlled, organized way.

I died once again and the set capacity of time as I knew it became yielding and pliable. My identity was still uninterrupted; my conscious self had left my body. I observed the lifeless state and felt no interruption in the continuity of my consciousness.

On this occasion my Brother and Grandfather on my Mother’s side who died before I was born affectionately welcomed me. I instantaneously recognised his disposition and correlation with me. They led me toward that colossal illumination towards the end of the well-designed highway I once again observed. I was glowing, my Brother emanated intensity and passion and my Grandfather radiated brilliance and influence.

It was as if various stages of progression in this dimension were manifested by vividness and not by ageing of the body, predisposed to living in the mortal state.

Leon and Oupa Jurgens were waiting in anticipation of my arrival and the friendliness and tenderness was awe-inspiring and the cling to from both was a vice-like grip, restricting my action to return to my body.

I took in the sight below me; my body lay dormant, eyes closed, a smile on my face, both my legs are in plaster, the left one up to the groin and the right one to just below the knee. My right arm had plaster up to my elbow and was placed to my side. I had an off-white belt wrapped around my chest to support the rib injury. Doctor Cotzee was cutting off at the miscellany the stitches left on my neck. The Sister was preoccupied with rearranging the various surgical instruments in a tray mounted beside my body.
Professor Earle looked forbidding and anxiously awaited the defibrillator to charge up. The anaesthetist was glancing at the I.V. drip that was affixed to the back of my left hand. The plasma bag containing the fortifying blood, supplied to me, was empty and disconnected.

The saline lotion had also stopped running and my blood was draining back into the transparent pipe as if rejecting the sustenance the drip was providing to keep me alive, revealing the cessation of my life.

I had once again shifted to the spiritual realm and I was upbeat again, I felt optimistic as if things could only get better. There was weightlessness and a strange intensity.

I was shining passion, elation and harmony; there was no pain physically or emotionally. I was more alert and cognisant than I had ever been before or since. My sense of awareness was vivid and enhanced, colours were effervescent and sounds were alive.

The clock on the wall showed 10h17. The Professor’s words impacted me with regard to my reality of existing for the rest of my life. I had a cousin with brain damage, labelled Cerebral Palsy. On the odd occasion that I visited my Uncle’s and Aunt’s house I observed her life as being one of a never-endingly, preposterous existence.

This association in comparison to my physical being at the time was a characteristic I didn’t care for. These reflections on my understanding of brain damage is the prime reason for my sway in allegiance to my obsession; in fulfilling my beautiful dreams in my mortal state, to this dimension that I currently inhabited.

I noticed that Professor Earle’s every instruction was followed without hesitation. Every step in the dramatic piece unfolding below me, as I looked down was exactitude, a well-rehearsed presentation.
The Sister had released the Velcro strap around my chest, exposing it to receive the electric charge that would breathe life into me and Doctor Cotzee stood to the right side of me with eyes closed as if in prayer.

That flat lining wail of the heart monitor was the only entity that wasn’t complementary. The anaesthetist was waiting in anticipation and Professor Earle, face dark with anger and frustration, was poised with the paddles of the defibrillator, ready to place them on my chest and rejuvenate me. The time marched on to 10h18.

I felt to some extent buoyant and happy-go-lucky not to rely on my complex corpse to pervade and augment an assortment of sensations that I once took into account, the only bona fide indicators that symbolize the meaning of life.

Right now it’s easier for me not to breath. Actually, it was easier, more relaxing, and significantly more natural not to breathe, than to breathe. I had just seen that my life would go on and with that accommodating highway ahead of me, I was still David.

“Stand back!” Professor Earle instructed brusquely.

He applied the paddles to my chest, as if the circle of life can be initiated at this contact point. A memorable charge surged through my body. I witnessed the current passing through my body, simultaneously suggesting to my central nervous system to be in that world once more.

The scene below me was inexorable and my limp body vehemently realigned itself on the operating table. The contemptuous flat lining of the heart monitor changed to an intermittent beeping then the familiar flat lining continued.

The magnetism to return to my body was strong but the impeding cling was so intense. 
I didn’t want to go back there anyway. I didn’t need brain damage in my life besides I was home now.

That time I had on earth seemed like an instant since I had been away from it. My Brother and Grandfather were focussed to get me to that illumination that imparted validation to exist in this dimension. When I had entered this dimension earlier and my brother was there to greet me he had a grip on me, comparable to taken by the hand firmly and marched forward, as one would experience physically.

The clutches in this dimension were out of the ordinary, there is no distinguishable way that embraces like this can be applied or understood in the physical. That hold on me at the time with my brother was powerful. I was able to break free because of the choice I had made to return to comply with my obsession. The arousing of my heartbeat by the medic at the scene of the accident and my judgment were the fundamental dynamic in restoring my life force to my body.
On this occasion I had a notion of being in the right place again much like belonging in my home with all its soothing reassurances.  Time abruptly contracted and past occurrences squeezed together into a moment.

My Brother and Grandfather had collectively inhibited that lure to return to my body. I didn’t find it a desirable prospect to be confined to that composite body, with the intricate inconveniences I would have to cope with to continue my time on earth. I knew by then, that the assortments of sensations that I once took into account, the only bona fide indicators that symbolize the meaning of life, had changed radically.

I was still aware of the situation in the operating room and the time ticked over to 10h19. The atmosphere was electric down there, Professor Earle was exasperated with sweat glistening on his brow and the Sister was looking at my corpse and choking back tears. Dr. Cotzee was staring at the heart monitor as if willing it to be emanating a more satisfying sound.

I was happy in the point of view of being at home where I belong. With no regrets I give thought to the panorama that developed, as I move along that well-designed highway. A satisfying prospect I now recognized and I wanted, all that affectionate illumination, dazzling, denoting the definitive significance of existence.

I could consider my energy and I could still catch sight of, perceive sound, travel. I could still think logically, contemplate, be aware of, have reservations about, and tell jokes. As a matter of fact, I felt more alive now than since I had been conscious of my reality.

Professor Earle applied the paddles of the defibrillator to my chest once again and I felt and observed the surge of electricity flow through my corpse once again, penetrating my consciousness. The screaming flat lining was broken again by an irregular beeping and I felt myself drawn back to the operating theatre and the hold on to me was unyielding.

My Grandfather and Brother guided me toward the brilliance.

The Sister eyes were downcast and Dr. Cotzee was leaning against the far wall at my feet with his face buried in his hands.

“There is no more we can do.” Professor Earle exclaimed in regret,

“Time of death is 10h20, does that concur Sister?”

“Yes Professor” The Sister agreed.

It seemed as though I was gliding on the highway, going everywhere at once on an infinite expedition. This highway expanded and as it expanded so did my own consciousness, to take in everything in the universe.

I traversed the highway directly into the core of the illumination. In this light I was surrounded by others of such perfection, the intimacy of my brother and grandfather with no one else I recognized, but they were my closest friends, wisest beyond comprehension. Expressions of wisdom and perfection were beggaring description.
The world and existence in it I had known was of no consequence, a diminutive soupcon but strangely, I felt affection for that world and feel a compassion for it more than ever before. I felt a love for those surrounding me and myself that was wholesome.

I felt embraced by the light as it took me in, overwhelming me with satisfying protection and ardour. I found myself in a great radiance of passion with the stream of existence flowing from it through me.

I knew this was a point of no return and I was stopped and released by my Brother and Grandfather. I appeared before this brilliant light and felt accepted as never before because of who I was.

I was in the presence of this energy, the most non-judgemental entity I’ve ever encountered until then and since.

I spoke no words; I understood, I answered and I knew.

I had a life review and tried to justify for my part. I had a scenic, high-speed scrutiny of my whole life in which both the good and bad, happy and unhappy, generous and selfish, the right and wrong were presented and were self-judged.

I exposed a minute-by-minute account of my life from the time I was born at 03h07 on 5 June 1964 until my death at 10h20 on 3 August 1981. I was able to identify passionately with the feelings that other people had in response to my expressions or actions.

I felt exceptionally upright about the worthy actions but a deep sorrowfulness for the inappropriate actions. I, to a great extent, tried to justify all my actions, but found all my defences and reasonableness inadequate.

Much to my encouragement, the luminosity was far from annoyed or reproachful. It displayed an understanding and even an amusement toward my transgressions. No matter how malicious or selfish my words or actions may have been, this luminous entity lead me to believe my actions as learning experiences. This was the judgement and was imposed by myself and was not the end.
Out of my satisfaction and remorsefulness grew an atonement of sorts and enabled me to be liberated from ignorance. I began to glow brighter and warmer. I was made aware that there is no death and I have been alive forever. I was part of a natural living system that recycles itself endlessly.

I was never told I would be back, I didn’t know that I would. It was a natural progression.

Now I knew there was a creator and I was in the presence of the creator, this presence was all too obvious and couldn’t be denied. In this dimension I was experiencing the source of life so this sentiment led me to believe a creator exists and there was no question of it. I didn’t have any questions to ask.

I saw visions of the future and witnessed incidents that took place in my own life as well as future events in world history. I observed that there are different realms in this dimension and the highest expanse truly is paradise, a world of enjoyment and recreation.

I discovered that we are the most beautiful creations and that there was no evil in any soul. All people seek, is love, and what distorts them is the lack of love. We are designed to self-correct, just like the rest of the universe. In the kingdom of the mind you are all essence, this is what guides you and develops you spiritually, there is no holy being but a common good.

No redeemer but one has to rely oneself, no trinity but substance, energy and intellect.

All has been and always will be in harmony with life, and one’s own character is one’s divinity.

Who I was, was not the stalwart 17 year old with definite plans for the future and worldly pleasures that I sought out to pursue.

My awareness of the operating theatre was growing dimmer as I took in this light and all that surrounded it and the universe kept extending and expanding, always growing, forever. I was so alive and glowing brighter and vibrating faster.

The warm, passionate radiance instructed me to go back and continue my life on earth to learn, love and to develop myself, come what may.

I had every reason, in my opinion to stay exactly where I was, to insist in my way of reasoning, that the kind of life a brain damaged person leads is not the life that I want but I had no choice in the matter.

In a flash I was shown a future on earth and it looked of high merit and had a desirable quality. In an instant I was convinced to go back and I knew that I knew, everything would get better for me.

My journey, although momentary, back to my earthly realms was in desolate balance compared to my channel to the spirit world. I was without my overwhelming feelings of love and acceptance, my body looked so small and insignificant covered with that sheet. The lights used to illuminate the operating table were switched off.

Professor Earle was sitting in the far side of the operating table writing down the occurrences in a notebook and the Sister was placing the operating equipment into a sanitising drum to be used for the next emergency.

The clock on the wall glowed 10h22. Dr. Cotzee was washing up at a basin the opposite side of Professor Earle. The silence in the room was deafening and the heart monitor showed a flat green line.

I splashed gently back into my body and felt pain consuming me.

I was alive again, that steam engine was all around me, belching out waves and waves of pain into a blinding agony once more:
I just need to get up a bit and see what happening now.

I wished I wasn’t so damn sore and it was a bit difficult to move. I was so hungry.

“Professor Earle!” the Sister yelled, “I’ve got an erratic heartbeat again!”

There was a crashing of commodities and I felt the sheet pulled off to reveal my face.

I wondered what was going on. I managed to open my eyes and saw gentle grey eyes looking down on my face and another face appeared with tears streaming down out of tired eyes and then Dr. Cotzee appeared staring in incredulity.

“Hello David”.

Professor Earle said to me, “Don’t you go dying on us again?”

“Hello Earle”.

I croaked back to him.

“Are you in any pain?” soft grey eyes whispered to me.

I thought to myself that I’m so sore I couldn’t describe it to them, I wished they’d leave me alone. I needed to get some sleep because I had to go to work tonight.

A velvety darkness engulfed me, the pain was gone and I was comatose.

I woke up again on the 2nd October 1981.
Too much of a good thing is wonderful!!!!

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Posts: 6

« Reply #1 on: September 24, 2008, 01:46:27 AM »

This is an incredible story. I enjoyed reading it very much. You went through a traumatic experience. What was it like when you were in a coma?

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Posts: 31

The Late Great Me
« Reply #2 on: September 24, 2008, 10:27:35 PM »

Whilst i was in a coma I was aware of sounds around me and odours...I had the ability to extricate my mind from my body as to get away from the pain...whilst I was in my favourite corner of the room I could only observe, my hearing was non existant...many months after the event I could describe the clothes worn, the fragrant perfumes and even the jewelry the nurses wore...

It didn't take long for the damaged part of my brain to die and as it died, I lost the abilty to leave my body and woke up to live this new life I have...

Between that waking up with closed brain damage and now, is the wonderful life I've led, as described in my book, The Late Great Me...this book is not a politically correct watered down version of being disabled, it's the politics of being crippled in society as it happened to me... 

I've had great interest shown in this book from local universities to be used as a teaching aid for students, studying in various functions of medical practise...

If you'd like to know the rest of the story then go to my site and follow the links to the book for sale...the proceeds of this book is going to a deserving charity...

Too much of a good thing is wonderful!!!!
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