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NDE : A True-Life Story [1]

['This Content Is Not Subject To Review Daily Kos Staff Prior To Publication.']

Date: 2024-03-04  

This is my story. And it’s true to the best of my knowledge and recollection. Others may read this and walk away with varying interpretations . . . and that’s fine. I'm not attached to the outcome. Okay . . . here I go . . . {{{exhale}}}

On October 30, 2023, I entered a clinic to receive my sixth vaccine of the year. It was to be routine. I was to get the new RSV injection. I knew the instant the syringe material entered my body there was a problem. I'm not really, honestly a medicine kinda guy. I normally don't get these kind of injections. But I’ll be 70 a tad over a year from now, so when one gets to me MY age, you want and need all the help that comes along or you can get.

Every injection I've had of late, I barely felt anything. Nothing, till right after when it began to burn and there's a sensation of pressure. This time was totally different.

The instant the syringe contents reached my body . . . there was a “stinging” sensation. It was like a bee sting. I initially didn’t give it a second thought. I got up and headed for the door, then through the lobby. Then is when it started.

By the time I reached the front reception area, I started feeling dizzy, lightheaded. Again, I pressed on, ignoring this. Got outside, then got halfway to my car. Someone looked at me, evidently thinking I was lost. “Oh, happens to me all the time. I can't remember where I parked my car half the time,” or something like that. I then turned around and walked back to the clinic.

Told the receptionist I’d just received the RSV and I didn’t feel well, that I merely needed to rest a while, till I'm better. Of course that was okay. She must have called for a nurse to check me over. I was then ushered into another empty room where my BP was taken and every attempt was made to make me comfortable. My BP, if memory serves, was in the 230/110 range, though I wasn't given the exact reading. They only told me “Your blood pressure is very high”.

They wanted to contact my wife. I gave permission and handed someone my cell phone. She materialized several minutes later. They simply could NOT get my BP down. After my wife arrived, they demanded I be taken to the nearest ER for assessment and treatment. So off we went, as I still didn’t feel well.

The ER peeps were great. An admitting physician came in, did a quick assessment of my situation, ordered meds, then ordered some imaging to confirm or R/O a possible stroke. Nothing was making any different.

I was then wheeled to radiology. Here is when it gets really fuzzy. I think plain-film x-rays were done. But maybe not. What I thought I was there to receive was a CT scan with contrast. I do recall crawling onto the table and they began taking views. Then everything changed. I received an iodine-based solution, which I recall.

OMG! How to convey this? *I* was still there. *I* could sense and hear everything . . . vividly. In a few seconds, however, I couldn't move. I couldn't even if I wanted to. A few minutes later I “heard” the scans were completed, then the table began moving.

I could then sense people talking, yelling, then there were slaps, with the words “Wake up! Come back! Keith, come back to us!” which I vividly heard. But I couldn’t move. I knew intellectually what was going on, what was happening. But I was powerless to respond.

Then, I guess I . . . left. I have no memory of this time. The next thing I remember is sorta, kinda, almost coming ‘round, in a manner of speaking. I could again hear what was happening, and my eyes were slit so I had a partial field of visual stimuli. I was back in the ER. I could hear people talking, feel being moved about. Then . . . I heard my wife’s voice. Wonderful, I thought. This was followed by one of the physicians. “We need to intubate . . .” he said. In my brain I screamed, “Hell, no!” which no one heard, save myself. You see . . . *I* was perfectly content where I was. I saw no need to move my body. Till then.

[Approximately a week later, when contemplating what had happened, I realized this was the classic definition of a coma. I’m here to convey . . . people CAN hear while in a coma!! I heard every effing sound, every word, all of it, acutely. This gives me peace. And it confirms what many have said or personally experienced. Which also brings me peace. I was at my grandmothers bedside following her stroke. She was pronounced “in a coma”. I stroked her face and hair, I told her of my undying love. I told her all was well. I then told her if she needed to go, that was fine as well. It was then she gathered up all her strength . . . and breathed her last. I’ve always considered this a precious gift from her. I held her hand when she took her final breath. She was a young 93. A good, long life.]

I gathered my strength and gave one, huge push . . . perhaps akin to giving birth. I’ve only witnessed the birth process. Never experienced it myself. But this is the best I can come up with.

I opened my eyes and beheld by surroundings. I was back in the room where I started. Everyone appeared stunned. The small room was full . . . and they were all staring at me in shock. There was my wonderful wife. Not sure if she was shocked or not. They began to file out of the room, one by one. I was transferred to another room and kept overnight for “observation”.

Afterward, every attempt to bring my BP down to normal was unsuccessful. I tried to live my normal life, but it was becoming more and more impossible. Finally, after over a month of failure after failure after failure, a new medication prescribed by a different physician was given that brought success. It actually brought my BP below normal. I’ll take it, I exclaimed!

That brings us to mid-December. My life slowly began to improve. At least I’m not a walking, talking, breathing stroke, just waiting to happen. [SIDE NOTE: I lost my baby brother on Thanksgiving Day last year. of an apparent heart attack.] I thought the worst was behind me. Boy, was I wrong!

On January 25th, mid-day, I began to feel ill and left the office. I, unfortunately, was never able to return. Not to my old life, not doing what I normally did. I tried. Oh my, did I try! There was a limited success in mid-February, maybe three or four days. But I could treat half the number I did before. In my old, old life, I would see anywhere from 60, 70, up to 80 patients daily, by myself, and I actually was able to get all my patient notes done as well! [SIDE NOTE #2: I never left the office with unfinished work, patient chart notes or otherwise.] I knew when we opened this new office I would never be able to treat that volume of patients. I instructed my staff I would see no more than 30 patients. I could handle that. And that worked beautifully. Till late February.

I could barely walk, much less give chiropractic adjustments. Wow! Last year I would see 10, 20, up to 30 patients and leave still refreshed. Not now, not this year.

I did not receive a correct diagnosis initially after I became sick in January, and if the diagnosis was correct, the treatment plan wasn’t as long as I required. We consulted an ER FOUR times for this shitstorm. The first resulted in a correct diagnosis, but the treatment plan wasn’t as long as I required. The second was a total waste of time and energy. They missed everything. Our third attempt was also not helpful. The forth attempt was fruitful. The working diagnosis was confirmed and a new medication was recommended. The flu I started with was actually pneumonia.

It was determined the issues I started with had all but resolved. My new, current issue was drug-induced insomnia. I quite simply could NOT fall asleep, no matter what I tried! So I was prescribed a mild antidepressant that would, hopefully, calm me enough to actually drift off to lala-land. It’s working.

[I’m leaving a LOT out, FWIW!!!]

So, there you have it. My story. Warts and all.

What traumatically began as an NDE (Near Death Experience) morphed into even worse trauma (from my perspective). This time I’m hoping, praying the worst is behind me. The old saying, “I ain’t been right since” applies here. I “thought” I was fine. I “thought” I was getting better. But this was all fools-gold, mere wishful thinking.

I have no memory or recollections of any other-worldly occurances during the NDE, beyond the heightened sense of hearing and restricted sight. I cannot comment on that beyond what’s written here. If you began reading because you expected some juicy insight or something else, I apologize. This is the best I can give. I hate to disappoint.

I’m happy to report I AM improving, but frustratingly slow. But we were forced to close my office, which hurts me to my very core. I wanted “ME” back. I wanted “MY” life back . . . the way it was. I never, ever wanted my office to close. This pain is very real. I hope no one else ever experiences such pain.

Now . . . I solicit insights, thoughts, your similar experiences. Hell, I’ll take prayers as well. Anything you may feel Spirit leading you to convey. Be kind. Please.

[ADDED 03/04/2024]: most of the above was drafted immediately after 10/30/2023. I added it here and saved it in Drafts. I wasn’t ready to send it out into the ethers.

To say “I ain’t been right since” is inadequate, but that’s all I have. Months and months of riding an up-n-down, round-n-round roller-coaster. Neverending.

I would like to hear others’ stories, first-hand experiences, rumors even.

My current feelings: I feel like I’m in this deep, dark, forboding chasm and I’m screaming, I’m yelling . . . but no sound is coming out. I feel like I’m on another planet, but I can sense unfathomable stimuli all ‘round me, coming from every direction and I want to escape. But there is no escape. I’m in pain. Unemagionable pain. With swelling. I’ve now been to an ER SIX times. I feel like no one understands. I feel my plees for help are not or cannot be heard. NO ONE’S LISTENING to me!!! And no one’s taking me seriously. I look fine, ergo, I must be fine. I have brain fog, cognative impairment, inability to function.

Any and every attempt to seek medical attention ultimately has been a failure. I get a temporary respite from the agony. Then, here we go again, something else comes along. Back to the ER.

What would be extra, extra helpful is to know . . . another soul out there who KNOWS WHAT I’M GOING THROUGH either through their own IRL experience, that of a family member or loved one, anything, to let me know I’m not alone. I want OFF this merry-go-round.

I’m going to hit the ‘POST’ button now. Then I have to lie down, as I only got 3 hours sleep last night and I’m running on fumes. I may leave this up, or I may take it down, depending on response.

[END]
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