I haven't ever had a NDE ... near death experience in the meaning of dying, experiencing something to come back, tell.
I have however, lived right on the cusp ... right outside ... the door to Death. For some time I lived this way while battling cancer (Non-Hodgkins lymphoma) for my life. Much I don't remember ... much I do remember living in that world.
I was here but, not here ... I was strangely removed yet, there with Skip, our dogs. I could talk, I don't think anyone heard ME. Later when more lucid I would find out Skip didn't hear me. My thoughts were conversation inside with myself.
I remember the darkness around me ... I couldn't see past the darkness ... sometimes, I could hear. If I had died during that time ... there wasn't any fear of death ... there wasn't fear at all ... I only knew the darkness and the sensation of being the coldest I had ever been in my life.
I had a constant sensation in my body ... itching. My skin constantly itched ... not a crazy itch ... just itching. I couldn't see my skin ... I was under many blankets ... in July. I remember my fingers gently touching my skin, lightly scratching. Cancer causes itching ... chills, fever, night sweats ... loss of weight.
Skip's reaction once reached through the foggy, dark world I was in ... I was dressing myself to go to the doctor ... somehow ... I had lost so much weight without being aware of it. That's how sick I was ... I had lost all sense of ... self ... myself. I was gone but, still there. The shock was great enough to make Skip gasp ... that was the only time ever I've seen him do that.
I vaguely remember the moment I was being wheeled to surgery ... I could barely whisper. I told Skip I was so glad I was going to surgery because I couldn't make it any longer. I had major surgery ... thoracotomy on my left lung. Oh my God ... no one will ever know the pain, suffering for the next 5 years ... pain even to this day.
Non-Hodgkins lymphoma was in my lung .. my condition had progressed so much that I could barely speak above a whisper, and I couldn't breathe. It took so long to go through many tests to finally diagnose me ... I only became sicker fast. At first they thought Sarcoidosis only to find out it wasn't.
This was only the beginning of my battle ... I was so close to death ... my body the weakest ever in my life. I went on to relapse ... have to have a ...... second surgery ... another thoracotomy on my right lung. Oh my God ... if I thought I knew pain ... imagine double pain. Back then, thoracotomy surgery was horrible. Now ... it's less invasive. The pain for years since ... even now, I hurt. I call it forever pain.
My oncologist will tell you I shouldn't even be here. In my mind I knew I wasn't going to make it ...
I will write more on this life-altering experience as time goes by. It can't be written in a short time.
What a journey in Life I took ... it was the worst thing to ever happen to ME ... until the very moment the stranger's voice told me my son was collapsed on the beach ... and he wasn't breathing. Oh my God ... no pain I've ever suffered before, since then ... even compares.
You can't look at ME ... and see even a hint of some of the most awful journeys I've taken in my life ... you can't even see a hint of pain this body has had in it, nor know the pain my body carries. I won't let you see ... I will dazzle you with my smiles.
Why would I let anyone see unless ... I was looking for pity, sympathy? You won't ever see ME want sympathy nor pity.
If you happen upon ME in pain ... and I don't hide it ... it's probably best to get me to the nearest hospital ... even if I'm smiling. I smiled through so much pain from hundreds of painful tests, when my lung was collapsed, surgeries ... when I had open-heart surgery ... if you see me in pain ... disregard my smiles ... I'm in trouble, I need medical attention. Really ... please help me.
Okay ... I see I'm getting ready to go down another road. I will stop here. I always say this to you ... when I tell my very real stories... don't ever feel sorry for ME. I write to entertain ... tell the world my experiences living real life hoping when I write, say something it will help someone.
I also, write to survive ... writing keeps ME from building up inside ... imagine a teapot steaming ...if you closed the valve ... the teapot would explode. I am that teapot ... steaming is my release in order not to explode. We all have outlets ... writing is mine ... I write what I know best ... my Life.
I write the colors of my life. Real colors of a very real person.
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