Before reading this, be aware that the following may seem paranormal, spiritual, out of this world or just plain weird. But for me it was and is real. I am not trying to convince anyone of any faith or belief. This is merely my experience.
Before my trauma I was neither spiritual nor religious. My mother was interested in spirituality. She was reading a lot of soul searching books and sometimes tried to discuss this subject with me. I would respectfully listen to her however the overall content seemed to be fantasy. I even laughed at her occasionally and felt superior.
After eventually waking up from my coma I was in agonising neuropathic burning pain. All I could talk about was asking to extinguish the fire in my arm. It consumed all my attention.
We tried all possible pain relief medications. None of them worked…
Mum tried to distract me and shift my attention to something else. So we started playing a word game. Where one person names any word and the other player has to name any word that begins with the last letter of the previous word. And you continue naming words in this fashion. You try not to repeat the same words.
Mum was astounded by my initial choice of words. They were: blood, lungs, messiah, cosmos, nazi, pain, dark, light.
Quite an unusual variety for a person who would struggle to remember the capital cities of Australian states.
Mum asked whether I remembered where I was whilst I was in a coma. I recalled being in a strange place. There were a lot of people, mostly elderly. I somehow knew they were all dying. I felt really scared and confused. I just wanted to go home.
A tall man approached me and told me that this is not my time to go yet. He said not to be scared, that I needed to be here for a while but I will be back with my family soon and will live a long life. His said his name is Nickita. He also said that he is my guardian angel. He even apologised for not being able to prevent my accident. He was too busy with his other ” clients”, as he calls them.
Nickita also introduced me to his family. He has two brothers named Anton and Alyosha and a sister named Lera. He explained to me that they are our ancestors and they look after our entire family.
Nickita visited me every day. At least I could sense his presence . I can describe it as a warm sensation in my heart. Like a feeling of calmness, comfort and love. It would ease my pain a bit, calm me down and help me get to sleep in the evenings.
Nickita told me that he saved my life on numerous occasions. That he was guiding the hands of surgeons who were operating on me.
On the day of my crush doctors discovered my right bronchus was severed and my lung was just hanging there. This is considered a fatal injury. There is only one other case in the world where a person survived such an injury. This is why doctors have no experience dealing with such a case. And this is why they told my family I would live 2 more days, at most.
Doctors thought the only chance to save my life would be to amputate my right lung and try to repair a hole in the bronchus. Mum gave her permission for the surgery to commence. All my entire family gathered at the hospital and the agonising wait began.
Quite soon surgeons came out and informed that they abandoned the surgery as they were not able to intubate me for the anaesthetic . Apparently the best anaesthesiologist of this hospital tried to insert the tube into my throat and had no success. He said that my torn bronchus was moving. They said there was not much that they could do to save my life and that my family should prepare for the worst.
Nickita later told me that he was moving my bronchus and preventing this surgery to go ahead. He said it would have killed me. I would have bled to death as the hole in my bronchus was too big to repair
When I eventually told my mum about Nickita she didn’t know what to think. Then she told me about an interesting series of events that occurred while I was in a coma that Nickita confirmed he was a part of…
To be continued…