A few years ago, I died. I went into the hospital with chest pains. The doctor decided to do a heart catheterization. I told the doctor I was afraid I was going to die during the procedure. He told me this was stupid thinking and this procedure was completely safe.
I’m rolled into the operating room and was placed on a cold hard table. It seemed like forever waiting for the doctor to begin. Not once was I injected with medicine to sleep. I waited. I waited.
A nurse put my CPAP machine on, and I waited. I started to feel sleepy, and I thought someone finally put medicine into my IV.
I drifted off but not completely.
I was standing on a stage with a spotlight directed on me. I just started working in community theatre, and I thought I was dreaming all of this in my mind. I looked down at myself, wearing my favorite Converse shoes, blue jeans, and a movie t-shirt as I stood on the stage. Everything felt odd. I didn’t feel like I was dreaming. I looked around, and everything was as black could be but a vibrant black, almost like I was in a painting. The spotlight was filled with colors then it dawned on me, this is the spotlight to heaven. I heard footsteps as clear as day. I could see a tiny light in the distance coming towards me.
I could see a lady carrying a lantern. This was not a lady, but my mom, who had died recently. She was dressed in her favorite sunflower shirt and jeans she walked up to me.
She told me I couldn’t stay here and I had work to finish. She poked my left shoulder, and I work up in the surgery room.
A nurse welcomed me back. She asked me how I felt, I said sick. She said you should be sick nurses, pumped drugs into you to bring you back to life. When I was in my hospital room, nurses gathered at my door to see the miracle. It was the miracle of the day. I died.
I came back. The nurses wanted to hear my story. What did I see? Did I talk with anyone? I was lucky that day to be alive, or was I sent back to finish what needed to be done? Unlike a dream, I still remember every detail as like I lived it yesterday.
When I was experiencing my encounter with my mom, I could hear the doctor and nurses, like they were in the next room trying to save a patient, me. I was told by a family member they saw me in the hallway dressed in my surgical gown, looking at them.
I believe in near-death experiences. I saw my mom, and she sent me back. I’m no longer afraid of death.