EXPERIENCE DESCRIPTION:
 

It was Friday, the 2nd of March of 2007 at 2:00 P.M.  I asked my husband to take me to the emergency room because I felt that my chest was very congested and I needed to eject whatever I felt was "stunting" my chest, which did not let me breathe deeply.  I also told my husband and my 18-year old daughter that I only wanted them to look at me in emergency, so that they might give me an antibiotic and then I might return home in time to pick up my other two daughters who were about to leave school.   I told my eldest 18-year old daughter to take very good care of my one-year old son and that I wouldn't be late. Additionally, I took my cell to keep her informed. 

 

I arrived at the hospital and my husband left me to do something he'd been charged to do, so that I was left all alone. I passed into the room where they ask you questions and where they perform the blood pressure exam and all the basics. Immediately they passed me to the back of the emergency room without having to wait, which provided me with much relief.  I said:  "Wow!  I'd like it to always be like this when someone goes to the emergency room."  Well, they sat me down in a chair in the hallway as they were waiting for an empty stretcher.  I was there for about 15 minutes, maximum, when all of a sudden I started to feel a bit dizzy and I started to hear voices from very far away.  I put my arms behind the nape of my neck to open my lungs so I could more easily breathe, since I suffer from asthma, and that helps a bit.
 

It didn't work right away; I got up from the chair and, at that moment, a nurse was passing by and I threw myself on her and fainted. Later when I opened my eyes I was on a bed; I had already responded and they told me not to worry, that soon a technician would arrive to give me treatment to breathe through the mouth and to help the lungs to breathe better.  During that interval, a nurse by the name of LINDA gave the order to another nurse that she should give me an IV, just in case.  At that point the respiratory technician arrives and he gives me vapor-like drugs to inhale by mouth called Estroven and Albuterol.  Later he left and at that precise moment when I finished inhaling my body and all my extremities started to shake as if I were having convulsions--very strongly and very quickly. 

 

The nurse with the name of Linda read my vital signs since by then they'd placed a lot of wires on me--on my chest, too--and I quickly saw her dial the phone and she told a doctor:  "Come immediately, it looks real bad," and I continued trembling and my pressure went up 160 and the same nurse immediately, for the second time, redialed the doctor who was on another floor and said:  "Come immediately, she is very grave; bring your rear down her immediately; I'm not joking."  At that, the doctor came in and stopped to my left and looked at me and we made eye contact and he asked me "How do you feel,  Senora?" and I answered by pointing to my neck, making signs (I couldn't breathe).  At that point he turns the monitor and it said 178 and I at the same time turned my head to see and the doctor lets out a huge cry:  "She's leaving us; she's having a cardiac arrest".  He opened my stretcher so I could lie all the way down, as the stretcher was slightly inclined and he put his hand behind the nape of my neck and his other hand under my jaw and then he started to put an iron metal in my mouth, but it wouldn't go in and I told myself: "This can't be for real."   

The doctor resumes yelling: "She is having a spasm.  I can't put the tube in." And I, at that precise moment, felt something super-hot over all my body, from my feet to my head and felt, at the same time, that someone pulled me from my feet and something pulled me from my hands in opposite directions and they "shot" my body as if it had burst.   I said: "My mother, help me!"  She had already died in 1991 and I felt a hot beam in my right ear, which dislodged from me--or, rather, that  exited my body and I saw a second of darkness.  When I opened my eyes I saw my mother on the ceiling of the room in which my body was, but I could only see her from her waist to her head which didn't surprise me and neither was I afraid, and I said to my mother:  "Wait for me, Mama, let me tell them that I'm OK.  I can breathe and nothing hurts," and she didn't answer me and she was very serious and she only looked into my eyes with a great sadness while I was feeling such relief, peace and happiness and many beautiful things at the same time, and I look down and saw a doctor and nurses who were moving away from me--[all] minus the doctor and the nurse LINDA and the doctor kept yelling at everybody and hitting me and he gave me three electric shocks.  I didn't understand why he was so annoyed and agitated in such a manner and I kept observing from above.  

I did not for one moment see my body; I only knew and felt that I was floating on the ceiling in the company of my mother and she, [so] serious, while I kept observing. Suddenly all the nurses left my side and left the doctor and the nurse Linda  [was] at my side and at that, I felt something hot through my veins and my body felt a pull, which made me sit and I grabbed the nurse Linda with my right hand towards my chest and told her: "Don't leave me," and after that I didn't know anything until midday Monday when they removed the tube from my mouth and the Doctor was in intensive care, inclined, holding my hand and crying and I awakened and turn my head to see who it was and I said:

"Why are you such a grouch and a screamer?  Don't be such a _____; why were you yelling at all the nurses and at Linda, and me, too? I saw and heard everything from the ceiling."  He said: "It's that you gave us all a great fright; I didn't know what to do and you so young, and your baby and your girls and your husband--what was I going to say to them?  Aside from that, it was the first time I resuscitated someone and it was also my first time intubating someone; so you didn't give me time to ask another doctor for more help to intubate you.  I had to act, as time was passing and you didn't want to come back." 

I answered, "Wow, if you knew how lovely it was to be there with my Mama; well, I didn't feel pain,  or anything, but yes it scared me very much--not being able to breathe--but later I felt a relief and nothing hurt; it was a peace and an immense love that I felt in my heart and my soul, knowing I had that experience and that even 'though the interval during which I couldn't breathe was horrible, after that was the most marvelous experience I'd had in my life; before, I was scared of death and now I don't feel the same; I give an infinity of thanksgiving to God for placing you and Linda as my angels who fought and fought even when it looked like there was no hope." 

The doctor also told me that he'd spoken with my whole family and that he'd said they'd battled anew to try to bring me back but that it was now in the hands of God and that they didn't know if I would live and if I did, he couldn't guarantee in what state I'd be, as much time had passed since my brain was without oxygen. I asked the doctor what he did with me as I was in pain and had bruises on my arms and chest and could hardly speak and he said, "That's of small concern; you are here, that is the most important thing, and it's logical you can hardly speak as the intubation was super-difficult,"  and I asked him: "But what else did you do to me?"  And he answered, "Well, I gave you shocks three times and you didn't want to come back until we injected LIDOCAINE in the IV and it was that way that your heart started to beat a bit and we tried to maintain you like that and with oxygen, well, your heart was functioning only at 10% and it had to be at an average of 55-70%, so there was no probability that you'd survive and look at you here!"  I said:  "Well, God sent me back."

 

Was the kind of experience difficult to express in words? No