3 of October 2012

10 years ago today. My life, and the lives of everyone around me changed forever.

I spent a month mostly referred to in third sense. How else does one talk to a person refusing to wake up? I never know if the people allowed to see me, ever talked to me, or mostly at me?

As I have never been a visitor to someone in coma, only being in one myself, these are things I hope never having to experience in first hand.

I’m not going to bore you with a lengthy retelling of what happened on that faithful, beautiful October morning. There are already pages written about that earlier in the blog. I will instead focus on how it has changed me. To who I have become.

Many might think the stubborn survivalist was always there, but I was super surprised even to ever hit 30 years. Nah, I was completely, 100 percent convinced that I would never turn 30. Not in a wishing to die or pretending to be someone famous kind of way, for me it was the truth. Where I picked that up from and who or what had convinced me of my short life, I have no idea, but somehow every day after turning 30 has been a bonus and in a way a blessing.

I don’t think I have told you about what I experienced when I was under. It’s a strange thing to recall, but during 2012 they are my strongest memories. They are still so crispy clear I can smell the salty-ness of the ocean air, feel the wind, look up at the gloomy skies. During my time in hospital, in a coma, I managed to see my father. He had by then been dead for over 5 years. My soul managed to find her way to see him. To keep me strong.

The details of our conversations are too personal to share here, but he gave his insight on a lot of matters that were concerning me at the time. I also met other spirits briefly, my grandmother being busy all the time going places, and others taking their time to gently say hello.

Could it all have been a figure of my imagination? Probably most of you will say. I only know what I experienced and to me, the hardest thing I had to go through waking up from the coma, was not that I had no sensation on my left side, nor that I had lost my voice, it was losing my father for a second time.

Being given a second chance to live again is not a small gift. You have to earn it, by living your life. That’s where I get my energy from, the stubborn will to live. Come illness or disease, come paralyzation or breast cancer, come broken ribs, fingers, knees, elbows and sternums, come severed stomach muscles, drainages, hospital visits or stays, come bakers cysts, I am still here. With a will to continue. Hopefully with a little grace. A thankfulness to all around me.

Keep smiling 🙂 we are still here, some of us only in spirit. Live your life whilst you can