I’ve faced my mortality this week. Not many people can honestly say that, and most never consider it or would rather not confront the fear. I handled the news remarkably well. I was in the Frankston psych ward — an absolute nightmare — and I think I’m carrying a small dose of PTSD from the experience. I wrote a long blog about it, so I won’t repeat all the details here. I’d always pictured receiving devastating news and having my world collapse, yet somehow it hasn’t phased me. In hospital I was hallucinating badly, drifting between sleep, psychosis and whatever passes for waking life; I’m still unsure which was which. I’m fairly certain a doctor came by briefly and told me I could never drink again or it could be fatal, then vanished — was he real or a trick of my mind? My mum, who stayed with me while I pulled out IVs and drove the staff mad, told me the same thing. Even as the doctor spoke, it felt oddly trivial, like a diagnosis about an ingrown toenail; I didn’t react the way I thought I would, even though it was huge news. No booze ever again — easy, right? Apparently my kidney function was once one point away from requiring dialysis. I came dangerously close.
I have always feared death. I’m not obsessed by the idea of passing on, but the manner in which I go out deeply concerns me. I have spent years reading about the afterlife, watched countless videos, and I spend many of my days pondering the means of it all and what comes next. People tell me not to worry so much about dying — that there’s nothing we can do about it, so we should simply enjoy our time while we’re here. Still, ideally I don’t want to pass at forty‑three.
I feel hopeless because there’s nothing I can do to help myself right now other than drink plenty of water and cut almost all salt from my diet. I see the kidney specialist in a week, so I’m keen to hear what he has to say and hoping for some clear guidance. I know it probably won’t be good news, but I’m trying to hold on to the hope that I’m not on death’s door. Physically I feel completely normal — no aches or pains — and I’m able to release myself without any real difficulty. The catheter I had felt pointless in the end. I went into hospital with dizziness and somehow came out with even more diagnoses and medications; what started as a simple GP appointment escalated and I found myself in ICU. Apart from my kidneys, they tested me thoroughly for everything else and, for the most part, those results were all clear.
I have always planned my funeral in my mind. I picture something simple, with close family gathered quietly at the cemetery. After thinking it through, I believe I’d prefer to be cremated and remembered with a small, discreet plaque. It feels oddly exciting to imagine visiting the place that humankind has philosophised about since the beginning of time. I’d like to find myself at the gates of heaven, with Jesus saying “Welcome home,” but based on the extensive research I’ve done — and it has been extensive — I don’t expect that to happen.
Although I have not personally experienced a Near-Death Experience or an out-of-body journey, I own a lot of books on the subject and they have changed my life... or perhaps my afterlife thinking. They’ve certainly altered the way I consider what might be beyond this life. These profound experiences are said to occur when the heart has stopped and there was no oxygen to the brain. Most medical professionals tend to push the phenomenon aside and often do not give it the attention it provokes, because it challenges standard medical texts and many doctors are reluctant to discuss in depth what these people report.
There appears to be an overwhelming number of souls who describe visiting a place of bliss, and many of those who return to consciousness say they did not want to come back. I’m sure there is a lot of people who go through these episodes and are afraid to talk about it in fear of ridicule. That is one of the more interesting aspects. Equally striking is how similar many of these accounts are — you would think NDEs might be wholly unique, different from person to person like dreams, yet that does not seem to be the case. I won’t go into the detailed similarities here, as I need to bring this blog to a close.