Near-Death Experiences - True or Not?

                                                            

My friend, June, had a Near-Death Experience. She'd always been a giving, caring, calm person but after her NDE, she was even more so - happier, more peaceful. When she told you about what happened, you could not doubt her absolute sincerity in what she saw and felt.

Here is what June said happened to her:  She was in the hospital after having a heart attack when suddenly all the alerts began going off in her room. She had gone into cardiac arrest. Nurses and doctors began rushing to her bedside. Her spirit left her body and hovered around the ceiling. She could see the staff working on her; she could hear them urging her to come back. She was curious but not at all concerned in what was happening to the body on the bed.

Then she found herself in a tunnel. It was sort of misty but she could see a light at the end. She knew she wanted to get to that light. When she emerged into it, she found herself in a place of total serenity.

"Vic," she told me, "no human being knows what complete peace of mind feels like. Life may be going pretty good but you are always stressed about something - your kids, your finances, your health, even small things like the car needing new tires or going to the dentist. There's none of that there. It is, simply, joy."

Suddenly, she was back in her body with the doctor pounding on her chest. She was in pain.

"No," she told him, "let me go. I want to go back."

"You have to stay. Your children have been notified and are on their way to see you. You told me your daughter is pregnant for your first grandchild and how much you are looking forward to knowing this baby. If you go now, you won't meet it."

She was able to send her mind back for just a short time. She could "feel" the baby in the mist. She knew it was a boy and that they would pass one another if she went on. She was then back in her body. She lived seven more years.

The two elements that most affected her were 1) the peace of mind, of course and 2) the completely different sense of time there, which is nothing like our own. A long time here is a short time there.

She asked me to give her eulogy when she died. She wanted to make sure her family didn't grieve for her. She likened it to being on a fabulous cruise ship to somewhere she'd always dreamed of visiting.

"Tell them to say "bon voyage, not goodbye and tell them they will be joining me on that trip in just a little while."

I did a lot of research n Near-Death Experiences after June told me about here. It is amazing how similar the accounts are. There is almost always a tunnel and a light of peace. I found that people tend to see who they most long to see to help them transition to this new realm. Christians see Jesus; Muslims see Allah. Some are met by their parents or a spouse or children they lost or even animals.

Many doctors and/or scientists think Near-Death Experience are simply a matter of synapses flaring or a body releasing pheromones or a similar event. I don't suppose it can be proven or disproven either way but I know people like June, who've been there, believe it from the bottom of their hearts.

A Pause In My Journey

                                      

Update: I haven't written for a while and people have contacted me to ask how I'm doing. The answer is: I'm doing fine.

It was August of 2016 when the spot on my lung was found. I refused an MRI and went on about my business. In May of 2017, I went to the emergency room for shortness of breath and total exhaustion. That's when the diagnosis of lung cancer was confirmed - along with congestive heart failure.

I declined to undergo treatment so my doctor did what she could to help with medication. Furosemide, which removes excess fluid retention did away with the shortness of breath. Iron pills, for my anemia, improved my energy level immensely.

And that's where I am today. I rather feel as if I was traveling along on my cancer journey until my body saw a rest area and said, "let's just stop here for a while." Of course, I had no choice in the matter but that was fine with me.

So now, I'm parked on a picnic table, with a cup of coffee and a cigarette, watching autumn turn into winter. I'm grateful that I'm not working and I don't have to worry about scraping windshields or navigating bad roads.

I was outside a convenience store the other day, smoking a cigarette while I waited for Brenda. A rather tubby 50-ish man saw me smoking and came over to me, raising his shirt up to his neck. He had a long, fat, ugly scar running from his chest to his navel.

"Let me show you what smoking can do," he said.

I smiled and said - "too late."

He told me he'd been through hell with surgery, chemo, radiation, infusions, sickness.

"And still," he said, "the last doctor's appointment I had, they informed me I have about 3-6 months to live."

"Well, enjoy life while you can. That's what I'm doing."

"Huh," he scoffed, "what to enjoy when you know you're going to die?"

Our conversation ended there but I thought to myself. I'll get to see another NASCAR champion crowned even if the winner isn't my choice. I got to see Jamie and Claire find each other again on the Outlander. I've read many books I've enjoyed. I visited with one of my oldest friends in Indianapolis. LeAnn came and spent almost a week with me. My cousin, Max, is coming on the 14th. My other favorite cousin, Shirley calls me and we have long nostalgic conversations about The Family back in the day. My old stand-by friends, Brenda, Jan and Blythe, come several times a week. I got to see the Democrats win in Virginia and New Jersey in what I hope is a repudiation of Donald Trump.

Some day, my body will say, "time to continue on our journey" but until then, I'm happy sitting right her at this picnic table watching the world go by.

Who Owns Your Life?

                                                          

I wish I lived in a state that had a Death With Dignity law. I'm not sure I'd ever use it but I'd feel better if I had that option. For me, it's not about suffering. I have a pretty high pain tolerance - not that I want to suffer, you understand - but the far more serious concern for me is loss of control. I have always believed that I own myself but, of course, most politicians and churches  don't agree. They think they own us and can make our critical decisions for us. If we can have an abortion. Who we can marry. Where we can go to the bathroom, for God's sake. And how long we have to keep living.

When the hospice lady came to see me to tell me all the services, they provide I was more or less shaking my head in resignation - okay, okay. Then she said they would bathe me when when I got to the point I couldn't bathe myself. That statement sent cold chills down my spine. I don't want anyone to bathe me - not a nurse, not my best friend, no one! At that point, I think I'd be ready to call it a day.

I'm not one of those people who want their family and friends around them when they die. A nurse at Wellbrooke made me feel so much better about my Mom. I had been going twice and day and staying for hours. This nurse (I don't know her name) told me to go home and get some rest.

I said, "but what if she dies when I'm gone?"

"I've been doing this for 30 years and I can tell you people decide for themselves. If your mother dies when she's alone, it's because she wanted it that way. 

She was alone when she died but the nurse's words eased my guilt.

My grandma was just the opposite. She was in a coma, on the verge of dying, but she hung on. My Aunt Deanie told her, "Jane (my mother) is on her way, Momma."

This was in Illinois and Mom was coming from Indiana. She walked into the room and kissed Grandma and held her hand. Fifteen minutes later she took her last breath. I truly believe she was waiting for her last child to come say good-bye.

I think I'd be more like Mom. Go away and leave me alone to do this.

A friend and I talked about suicide and how we'd do it if it ever came to that. I have loaded guns in the house but when I worked for the City, I remember the firemen's stories about people who shot themselves but didn't get the job done. One man shot his jaw off. Well, that would certainly just compound your misery!

Besides that, I wouldn't want my friends to find such a horrifying sight. That would be cruel.

I have all kinds of pills around here but I don't know anything about what or how many you'd need to take to die. Take too many and you'd just vomit them back up.

I almost drowned once and that was actually pleasant. I'd jumped off a high dive into a very deep gravel pit, went to the bottom and just sat there Indian-fashion. I didn't even realize I couldn't breathe - but I don't think it's always that serene and besides, I don't know where there's a gravel pit with a high dive.

We finally decided the best way would probably be carbon monoxide. Drive your car into the garage and leave it running. You'd have to be determined though because I don't think that's very quick. A friend's husband committed suicide that way but he changed his mind and made it as far as the kitchen. They found him reaching for the phone.

No way really seems ideal. I've had to have several pets put down because they were in serious pain. They got a shot, gave a sigh and relaxed into death. We're kinder to animals than we are to ourselves.

A Caring Touch And a Generous Heart

                                                  

I reader asked me the other day - "if you could tell me one thing I need to know about cancer, what would it be?"

My answer: choose your doctor wisely. Whether you've decided to undergo the full gamut of treatment or like me, forego it all together, having a doctor with whom you have a warm rapport is a necessity.

I don't mean every doctor. If you're having chemo and radiation or anything else, you'll have specialists who may or may not be particularly personable. I'm talking about your family doctor, your every day doctor, the one whom you can call with concerns or questions. The one who will treat you like he or she really cares about you, not only as a patient, but a person.

I'm lucky because I have that doctor, Doctor Rose Wenrich. She told me early on that she was my doctor, my friend and my advocate. She didn't really have to tell me because I already knew it but I was glad she did anyway.

When I first told her that I didn't even want a cat scan to see if the spot on my lung was cancer she said that wouldn't be her recommendation. When I explained my reasoning, she respected it and me as an adult competent to make my own decisions. She didn't give up on me though but immediately ran tests to see what medicine might be best for me in my situation.

It turned out, she changed my diabetes medication and my blood pressure pills since both my sugar and blood pressure were low. That helped me have more energy. The emergency room doctor who first diagnosed the cancer had already put me on Furosemide (Lasix) and that almost completely took away the shortness of breath I was experiencing.

I still didn't have much stamina so Dr. Rose did some more tests and discovered that I was extremely anemic. She told me to buy over-the-counter iron pills and oh, my Gosh, they worked like a miracle. I now go to Walmart (not that I like going to Walmart) which I couldn't do before. I can climb my stairs without having to rest every third step. I cook again (well, okay, not a lot but some).

I never had impossible expectations for Dr. Wenrich. All I wanted from her was as high of quality of life as possible during the interim and not to suffer at the end.  And maybe an affectionate hug when I walk out the door. She already fulfilled the first and last requests and I have no doubt I can count on her for the other as well. 

If you don't have that kind of relationship with your doctor, I'd suggest finding another doctor.

How To Talk To A Person With Cancer

                                           

The very first rule if someone you care about has cancer, is not to NOT talk to them. I have a couple of friends who've avoided me since they heard the news. I saw one of them the other day and he said, "I'm sorry I haven't been around to see you but I didn't know what to say."

I told him, "say exactly what you would have said if you didn't know."

I'm not shy about it and I'll answer any questions anyone may have but it's not exactly my favorite subject either. I'd rather hear about your kids, your grandkids, your pets, your job or your vacation.

I'm not going to make things awkward for you by throwing myself sobbing into your arms. I'm not a crier. (I'm much more likely to curse than cry). I'm not looking for pity or sympathy. Just treat me like you always did.

Here are some things people have actually said to me:

"I'm sorry you're dying."

Me "Well, you're probably not half as sorry as I am."

I had lunch with a friend and saw a tear trickling down her cheek. I asked what twas wrong was and she said, "you're going to die."

Me: "Yeah, but I think we have time to finish our lunch first."

One woman spent 20 minutes talking about how she'd lost her sister to cancer the year before and how excruciating it was at the end.

No, that's not really the conversation I want to have.

Another person told me, "what do you expect after all those years of smoking?"

"Well," I said, lighting up a cigarette, "we all have to die of something, don't we? Even you."

As I've said before,  I appreciate those who've told me they are praying for me even if I don't believe exactly as they do, I think the prayers of someone who cares about you,surround you with a positive aura....but, please don't try to convert me at the last minute by telling me I'll descend into burning hell if I don't accept Jesus (or whoever) into my heart.

Is that something you can just decide to do even if you don't feel it? Doesn't conversion have to be genuine for it to really mean anything? Can you say okay just to play it safe and cover your bases? That doesn't sound religious to me but rather, mercenary.

Another thing I really, really do appreciate is the suggestions people give me for overcoming cancer. I know they have my best interests at heart,  but at this point, if I swallowed all the pills and ate all the herbs and scarfed down all the fruits (some of which I've never heard of and drank all the potions and added seaweed to my diet and rubbed myself with magic cream from Australia, my whole life would revolve around cancer. I don't want it to do that.

I don't want it to be the main thought my life revolves around but rather, just an after thought, that will bring what it will bring.

I'm Lucky

                                                        

Well, here I am checking in. So far, so good. I went to see my family doctor yesterday and told her I feel fine. She was surprised at how good I looked and sounded compared to the last time I was there three months ago. She sent me to the lab for bloodwork and it turned out that she lowered my blood pressure medication and took away one of my diabetic medications altogether. I've lost another 20 or so pounds which she said helps with both diabetes and high blood pressure. Before I left, she said, "go home and keep doing it your way." I said, "I usually do," and we both laughed.

She said there is no predictable time table for cancer. I could go on like this for quite a while or I could go to hell in a handbasket next week. C'est la vie.

Here is one thing I've definitely noticed since I was diagnosed: my metabolism has completely flipped in several ways. For instance, my internal thermostat was always set on "hot". Mom and I used to go behind one another's backs to change the temperature. I always turned it down and she always turned it up. If we were still living together, I would now be in total agreement with her on the ideal setting.

I have a big fleecy robe I've had for years but never wore because I always got too warm in it. Last winter, I wore it every day.

My appetite has dwindled to almost nothing and my tastes have changed. I used to be a sweet lover - fudge, chocolate cake, sugar cream pie. Now I prefer fruit to sweets. I was also a beef and pork lover but now I don't like the dense, heavy meats as well. My favorite meal now is fish.

Sometimes, I have to force myself to eat or I get dizzy and blinky-eyed. I look at the clock and say to myself, "It's 3:00 p.m. - you've got to eat something." Usually, I end up fixing soup because its the quickest and easiest.

I think the little aide at the clinic was taken aback by my macabre humor when I told her, "I'll probably get that svelte figure I've lusted after for 60 years just before they shove me into the crematory."

My whole life, I could lie down and fall instantly to sleep. Pain didn't keep me awake and neither did worry.

No more. Now I don't have much pain or much worry but I toss and turn sometimes for hours before I go to sleep. On the other hand, I loved my afternoon naps. People knew not to call me between two and four because I was probably napping. I never take naps anymore.

Over all, I consider myself lucky. I have a wonderful support system of friends, which includes my doctor and my dog and three cats. I can still do all the things I love to do most. I sleep 'til the sun comes up, then open the big door so the animals and I can watch the bird feeders. I get my coffee and cigarettes and head for the computer. I write on my column and blogs and books. I read my Kindle and watch politics and NASCAR and the Outlander on t.v. I argue with with people on Facebook.

I'm not trying to encourage anyone to follow the same path I'm following. It would only work for people who can accept their situation and their own mortality. If you would fret and stress about when and where and how and why and what comes next, then it's better to put your fate in the hands of the medical profession.

God's Lottery

                                                            


My father was what he called a half-assed Catholic. I never knew him to go to church but he clung enough to his religion to want a priest when he died. (That didn't happen because he was already dead when Mom found him but we did have a priest speak at his service).

Mom was raised as what she called a Shoutin' Baptist but she had no belief that I knew of. She was, however, something of a Bible scholar. I still have her 23 Bibles - Catholic, Protestant, Amish, Jewish, the Book of Mormon, King James, the Living Bible. People came to her when they had Bible questions. She liked to compare one to the other to see where they differed.

My family paid lip service to sending us to church but they weren't "religious" about it. We were mostly Christmas and Easter Catholics. I don't think any of us were ever baptized.

Most of our folks leaned toward believing in reincarnation, which doesn't necessarily conflict with being a Christian. I think my mother had read everything that had ever been written about it and there is some pretty persuasive evidence for anyone who cares to look. I mostly favor it because it makes an on-going learning process in which you have the opportunity to grow and improve rather than the single roll of a roulette wheel.

"Hey, lucky you, you're Ivanka Trump."

"Hey, you're a black girl in a ghetto being raised by a crack whore. Sorry about your luck."

Several members of my family were psychic. Again, I know many people think this is all hogwash but if you'd seen some of the things I saw, you'd have a hard time simply dismissing it out of hand.

I consider myself an agnostic. I just say I don't know and I don't think anyone else does either. Devout people all believe they know the answers but what religion you are is mostly a product of your environment. If you were raised in America, especially 70 years ago when I was, you're most likely a Christian but if you'd been born in India, you probably be just as passionately attached to Hinduism or depending on your place of birth, to Buddhism or Islam or whatever.

Lots of people have told me they are praying for me. Some, who know I don't share their beliefs, ask if I care.

I tell them, "of course, I don't care. I welcome any gesture of kindness and concern."

I do have many questions about how they think it works though and I never get any satisfactory answers.

Number one is how their God decides. People on Facebook are always asking for prayer and if everything works out, they then say God hears us and answers our prayers. But, of course, we know he doesn't answer everyone prayers. Your neighbor's child dies of leukemia; your aunt's child is mangled in a war; your co-workers child is killed in a car wreck. Did they not pray hard enough? Did they not have enough friends praying for them on Facebook?  Is it all arbitrary, like God's lottery?

In the Catholic church crucifixion scenes are everywhere. When I was a kid, I thought they were creepy and I still do. Did it truly make people happy and grateful to see an agonized man hanging on a cross? What would you think if your best friend said, "I love you so much, I'm going to kill my child for you." Would you think that was proof of true love or would you think he was crazy?  It always seemed brutal and cruel to me. What kind of God would do that? If love means crucifying a man on a cross, please don't do me any favors.

I don't believe in a devil and I don't believe in hell. Again, what kind of god would punish his "children's" mistakes by throwing them in a burning inferno - not for a day or a week or a month, but forever? I can't believe in that God.

I always hear people on television say, "I never would have made it through without my faith."

Yes, you would. I took care of my mother with dementia for 2 1/2 years. Shortly after she died, I lost my son to a heroin overdose. Those were tough times. And you know what? I made it through about as well as anyone can. You know why? Because, unless you're going to kill yourself, you keep putting one foot in front of the other and carrying on.

Religious people think I have no faith but that's not true. I have faith that if you're as good and generous and kind as you know how to be, it doesn't matter what you believe. You'll either go to heaven with the god you believe in or you'll go to a spiritual world to evaluate how you lived and prepare to return or everything will just go black. I'm content with any of those scenarios.