I CAME BACK HAUNTED

What’s it like to almost die?  I was 52. Heart attack. The heart surgery wasn’t bad, but the sternal staph infection that followed was. They told me later that one in two people die. I was the lucky, unlucky one. Another surgery. Having to open my chest a second time in 10 weeks. A medically induced coma they called it, leaving my chest open so they could continue to clean out the staph. They released me out of this alternative world on the eighth day. After a 105 degree fever, they were hoping I still had some functioning brain cells. Everyone was relieved when I spoke. The first thing I asked after they removed a tube from my throat was how the operation went? My wife had to tell me it was eight days later. It is an odd feeling, missing eight days. A new meaning for the words, “time flies.” The second thing I asked for was a drink of water. As it worked out, Holy Water, because I thought I had seen Christ. Just my luck, no beautiful angel, like Roma Downey, from the TV series, “Touched by an Angel”. My Christ was a carnie, operating a ride at a carnival. It seemed almost like a VCR that he injected me into. I got in willingly. It took me on a ride up and down, something like a roller coaster, or bobsled run, bright lights flashing as I sped faster and faster, going so fast, everything seemed to blend together like a smudged rainbow, perhaps from the tears of my wife, daughter, and son, dripping tears onto my life that was dimming. It is always harder for the family. They are dealing with things exterior, while you are struggling with things interior. I arrived back at the start. The carnie, whom I recognized as Christ, asked me if I was ready. I understood him to mean ready to move on. I heard my wife yell “don’t go”. She was standing behind my left shoulder. I must have said no. Anyway, I’m still here. But I came back haunted.