How I Know

I want you to know that it was very difficult to write this down. Right this very moment I feel weak. The experience of feeling life slipping from my body and seeing the eternity that awaited me was a defining moment, from which my spiritual journey would begin. Looking for an explanation, I sought the guidance of my doctors, psychologist, and social workers. I asked them to help me make sense of what I recently saw and felt. The consensus was that this episode was nothing more than a symptom related to some post-traumatic stress syndrome (PTSS) that I acquired from my injury. Without any resistance, I accepted the diagnosis and went about my life the same exact way—still self-medicating and still trying to find pleasure in the things of this world.

About a year and a half after this experience, I was exploring the prospect of undergoing yet another surgery to reconstruct my face. The procedure involved inserting an implant below the layer of skin in my lower back. Over time, once the skin was stretched, it would be removed and the material used to smooth out and fill in tissue lost on the right side of my face. Usually my surgeries were carried out at BAMC. However, this particular time I was outsourced to a civilian doctor who specialized in these implants. I went in for my scheduled procedure, and the implant was inserted. It was supposed to be an outpatient procedure. When I was released, I was to go back to BAMC to make sure the procedure went well and receive clearance.

Thankfully, my dad came to see me through this procedure. I remember being in the car, leaning forward in pain, and repeating, “Something is not right.” He rushed me to the hospital as fast as he could. My military doctors determined that there was some internal bleeding. They decided to administer blood, hoping the bleeding from the surgery would stop. Four pints of blood later, the bleeding persisted. By this time, my mother had arrived to relieve my dad. I was rushed back to the original civilian doctor so the implant could be removed.

I began to experience a transfusion reaction, and my body reached a temperature of 108º. I vaguely remember nurses rushing to place cool towels and icepacks on my overheating body. My veins collapsed, and my body was convulsing. My mother, a minister, called my dad and told him to turn back around. They were losing me again, and this might be good-bye. She began praying intensely and interceding on my behalf. While all of this was going on, suddenly the room became silent, and the nurses, the doctors, and my mother disappeared. The only body in the room was mine, but there were three other entities.