I'm sprung.
From Monday to Sunday, inclusive, to receive a nice new Kevlar and Silicone femoral artery in my right leg, from groin to below the knee. Some ancestors of mine are gonna catch Heck, when I run into then, for introducing 'sludge blood' into the clean-livin' Meeker clan. Or optionally, one can say that I just have been blessed with "aggressive platelets".
Hence the dynamite charges of coumadin, I guess. Had to go back four hours after closure and open up the femoral again, to remove a clot that stopped up the works. Combined with all the other post-op drugs and considerable blood loss while the docs slithered around inside chasing that bad boy, I actually experienced one of those 'events' one reads about or sees portrayed on psuedo-psychic TV-umentaries.
Just had chugged down another handful of pills from the nurse, which were laid in over morphine, and was sorta flopped back on the ol' sweatsack, when I was suddenly about as thin as one of those Warner Bros cartoon characters, that usta get comically steamrollered into one dimension.
While pondering this sudden change of physical space, I felt my head and shoulders rising. Thinking a nurse had just cranked me back up, I opened my eyes to see...me! Yup...looked right down on the ol' corpus, whist hovering somewhere around the ceiling. About then, I began an ascension not unlike that of a balloon, existing as both a luminescent golden sphere and yet retaining my sense of body. Very pretty view, nice fresh air, sorta soaring up over a Garden of Eden-new Earth.
I could see it macroscopically and microscopically, with a view that outdid anything I've ever experienced for sheer beauty. For some immeasurable time I was just 'there'. Eventually, I noted that my energy trailed off into a looooong shimmering thread all the way back down to my feet. They were firmly on the ground, but I could easily lift them and rock around a bit. It struck me that I was quite happy where I was, and had the equally attractive options of lifting off, or could continue to keep my feet on the ground. I didn't even snicker at that line, either.
It was pretty much heads or tails, but eventually picked feet on the ground and the process slowly reversed itself, until I was back flat on the bed. Then, much like the Warner Bros cartoon character, my body popped back into three dimensions. Things sorta bobbed around with minor excursions into angles of geometry and perceptions of energy that were new to me, but eventually snoozed off, at the next morphine shot.
I have no real opinion on the event, it's rational validity, causes, or much beyond what I just reported. However, I will say that I have never smelled air so sweet, seen light so clear, or held such a fine appreciation for existence as I did in those moments.
Mind you, I'm not gonna have another perfectly good artery done up, just to repeat the event. However, if I do run across that place again, can't say that I'd be distressed if I stayed there to explore it. And...my friends may wish me the finest 'Bon voyage!', for who knows that the Road to Tinkemtown may not be found in such regions.
Thank you to all who send good wishes, I'll be a while before I sit at a 'puter, again. But, hey: there's fish in the water, birds in the air, and the Chessies tell me that the game will be afoot this fall. Gotta march!!! :~`)
Best to all,
John
