At first, it was the Light, a brilliant, white light,
without reflection and without glare. Then, the feeling... of quiet jubilation,
of peace and incredible serenity enveloping me. It was not ecstasy or any
feeling I could identify, except perhaps glory in the warmest most positive
sense of the word.
It was not at all similar to what I had experienced as
an Air Force Medical Officer taking the USAF Physiological Training Program on
5 May 1960 at Lackland Air Force Base for flight officers and deliberately
hyperventilating to see how that felt, and then, later deliberately taking off
my Oxygen mask at a simulated (flight chamber) low oxygen, high altitude (?
20,000 feet) and experiencing the exhilaration of mild hypoxia as well as the
other symptoms which occur physiologically during hypoxia and learning how to
differentiate hyperventilation from hypoxia which is obviously important if you
are flying at high altitudes or landing a plane.
During this time of jubilation and peace and serenity, I heard nothing, felt
nothing, smelled nothing and had had no sense of pain and no sense of having a
physical being. I did have the “feeling” that I was conversing with God and
that I was being given important insights and facts about the nature of our
being and the reasons for our existence that I must not forget and which I must
communicate to others because of their incredible importance. I was given the
impression that there is a God, a loving God and that it was the same God for
all people.
There was more, I know that was communicated but I have little memory of
anything specific. I do remember that somehow it was conveyed to me that it was
not my time yet, and I had to return, that there was more for me "to
be" and this was differentiated from anything I had to do.
I then started hearing very loud and unpleasant sounds- of paper ripping (in
retrospect, possibly sterile envelopes of gauze pads) and then voices, men and
women speaking in low murmurs- and then a voice saying “it’s almost time for
lunch” and then another saying “he’s had a respiratory arrest”. I was still not
feeling any pain and not seeing anything at all (the white light had vanished).
My recuperation was slow and I spent about 4 weeks in the hospital (and then 4
weeks in a rehab hospital.) While in the hospital ICU I attempted to “check”
myself out to see if indeed my “experience” which I recalled immediately, was
because I was brain damaged secondary to hypoxia. (I am a physician with formal
training in neurology and psychiatry).
I remember that my thinking initially was confused, that I could not remember
the last six presidents, or subtract 7 from 100 or spell world backwards.
Finally, however, I had the wits to ask what pills they were giving me and
realized I had the right to refuse the haloperidol and other sedating pills
they were giving me.
Soon, I was able to remember the past 6 presidents, to subtract 7’s from 100,
spell world backwards and I did not feel I was hearing or seeing things that
were not actually there, but I remained reluctant to share my “experience”
until I was safely home. Even then I was reluctant to share my experience
except with those I trusted and whom I trusted would tell me if what I was
saying seemed psychotic or brain damaged or if I was behaving in a peculiar manner.
Since my surgical recovery, I have resumed practice as a Psychiatrist and now
include, as part of my history, taking a few non-directive questions regarding
any unusual experiences people might have had during an accident or a surgical
procedure. I’ve also have had two patients spontaneously report to me what they
had previously told no one, and wrote out reports for me that are variants of
my own experience, but they had said nothing previously for fear of being
called 'crazy' (Neither patient was being treated by me for a psychotic
illness).
Was my experience secondary to a flooding of my temporal lobe, or God Spot
activated by ketamines, a potentially hallucinogenic chemical, as some suggest?
The cross-cultural nature of the experiences confuses rather than clarify… some
cultures see caves, other tunnels of light. Could it indeed have been secondary
to hypoxia? My own experience with hypoxia in a tightly controlled environment
in the Air Force was not in any way comparable to the feelings I experienced
while seeing the 'light'.
Could there be micro-tubules or fields of energy that envelope each of us and
in which our 'spirit' resides when we physically die, even if the 'death' is
brief as in the Near Death Experiences?
Or, leaving the most imponderable for last, was it a true 'religious'
experience proving the existence of God?
I have just become aware of a study by scientists at the University of
Chicago-- soon to be published in the Journal of General Internal Medicine,
finding that most US doctors believe in God and in an afterlife. 76% of 1,004
physicians surveyed said they believe in God and 59% believed in some form of
after-life. My own belief, prior to my respiratory arrest/NDE, included
believing in God, but with a strong conviction that the way to demonstrate this
was to be helpful to my fellow man while alive and with no feeling that I would
be rewarded in an after-life for my deeds for I did not believe in an
after-life.
Somehow, after my respiratory arrest/NDE, I awakened with the firm conviction
that there is a God, a gentle forgiving God, and the same God for all of
Mankind. Was I so terrified by my close encounter with Death that I mentally
had to configure this strong conviction? I certainly have no memories of
anything frightening during my 'experience'. My awakening and subsequent slow
recovery were distinctly unpleasant, but I am perplexed by my subsequent total
conviction of God’s existence.
NDERF.org, 4473. 1/27/2018. NDE 16095
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