I, Zombie - The Day I Died in General Mental Anesthesia

March 18, 2014. The day I died (twice).

Death is an interesting topic, I’ve always been around it, fascinated by it and educated myself on the subject, but what happened on this day… I could not have expected.

There is some important back story (and more) so please bare with me.

I woke up that morning, I was fine. I drove to my mom’s apartment, she was at work, no one was there, but I went there because I knew she was going to be moving in a couple of months, so I just wanted to help her out by cleaning / organizing a few things.

So I was outside in the patio, standing up. I picked up a box from thigh high (only about 5lbs) and I felt a twinge in my lower back, a pain I was unfamiliar with. Now, I’m known to have a very high tolerance for pain. If I say a pain is a 3 or 4, to the average person that might be a 6 or 7; this pain was a 3.5.

I turned to my right to place the box down (no bending) and the pain became a 4 - 4.5. I thought to myself “What the hell? I better go walk the pugs before whatever this is gets worse”. At that moment, I took one step toward the slider door and the pain shot to a 10! I fell to the ground screaming in pain with tears running down my face!

I’ve experienced a lot in life, but this was new. Now, I have no health insurance, so my first thought was, I need to deal with this on my own, but I couldn’t get up. Any movement at all, the slightest in any direction resulted in screaming and crying in pain, I was nearly paralyzed.

It was about 8am when this happened. I pulled myself into the apartment, that took about an hour to go 6 or 7 feet. Another hour goes by, 9am, I pull myself along the carpet through the bedroom to the living room. I know at this point, that I need help, but was still reluctant to go to the hospital. I started calling friends, my brother etc… but no one answers, it’s 10am on a weekday. Then I thought to myself: “I’m on the 2nd floor, how can someone help me if I can’t get downstairs?”

So, even though each time I stretch out my arms to drag my body along the floor I’m screaming and crying, I somehow manage to get to the door, and to be quite honest with you, I have all this very vivid recollection, but I do not know for the life of me how I got the door open, I just remember SCREAMING!!! the pugs still have to go out. By the time I open the door and pull myself outside onto the concrete walkway, I’m dripping with sweat and must’ve looked like I’ve been to war, I was beat, my face swollen from crying and just exhausted! It’s after 12pm. I lay there, out of breath when I hear the downstairs neighbor come home for lunch. I call to her to see if she’ll quickly walk the pugs for me, she does and offers to help me, but I say no thank you, I’ll be ok. After the pugs get walked, she shuts the door and leaves. I then drag my body along the concrete, tearing up my shirt and to the stairs and try to get down, but it’s impossible, I’m screaming and crying in absolutely excruciating mind bending pain!

Finally, 12:30pm, I give in, I call 911.

When they show up, they said they couldn’t get a stretcher to me, that I needed to be put in a wheelchair. I told them I couldn’t move, but it was the only option so screaming and crying, they lifted me and got me in the ambulance. I’ve never felt pain like this, it was completely unbearable!

When I got to the emergency room, they started giving me meds… Norflex, Flexeril (muscle relaxers) Toradol, Tramadol, morphine… It was all like taking a sugar pill, none of them had any effect!!! I mean absolutely ZERO!!! I was in the ER about 2 hours, still unable to move without screaming and crying uncontrollably. Then I was told that they were going to send me home. Yes, you heard that right; such as the life when you don’t have health insurance in the United States; you’re treated as less than human.

So, the ER Dr. said he needed me to sit up, but that was impossible. I told him that if he was going to force me, that he’d better put me in a separate room because I can’t control my screaming etc… all he did was put me elsewhere in the hallway with a screen in front of me.

He forced me to stand, I couldn’t do it on my own, I’m screaming and crying this whole time, probably swearing as well, and he and a nurse, holding me up kept trying to get me to sit on the arm of a chair, but I couldn’t. I tried, I really tried, but I couldn’t; it was at this point that he said: “Ok, I’m going to give you a shot of “Dilaudid”“. I didn’t know what that was, all I knew was that my body couldn’t take much more torture.

I was standing in the hallway, my sister shows up. The ER Dr. is holding me up under my right arm, the nurse is holding me up under my left arm and I was given the injection in my left arm.

Within about a minute, I started to feel flush, I got really hot, sweat poured down in rivers, I was nauseous and couldn’t keep my head up, I felt my body going limp…

The next thing I know, I wake up and inhale like I was holding my breath underwater for minutes, I had very intense pain in my chest and I saw that I was lying down now, in a room, with a dozen people yelling and screaming and running around, I was wearing an oxygen mask, blackness. Then it happened again… I took another deep breath, this time the Dr. was to my left and leaning toward me, he said: “Welcome back”. I didn’t know what happened, other than I was missing time.

Apparently, I died standing up in the hallway and they had to rush to try and resuscitate me. I was dead for about a minute, then I died again for about 20 more seconds and brought back a second time. It was at then that they finally decided to admit me.

The ER Dr. told me that my cause of death was “Pain”. My body could no longer withstand the amount of pain I was in. I don’t know if that’s true, but I was given quite the cocktail of serious meds in a relatively short span of time; you guys tell me what you think?

It took about 15 more minutes for people to clear the room I was in, leaving me there alone. I don’t recall the death experience itself other than just being peaceful; in fact, it was the best I had ever felt in life, but I remember nothing else.

I was still trying to get a grasp on the situation, and then I saw something. At the foot of my bed, there was a figure. About 7 foot tall, it was a male (I don’t know how I know that, but it was). I couldn’t make out a face, he had arms and legs, though I couldn’t see them because he was wearing a long ivory colored hooded robe with gold vertical embroidery down the front. I don’t think it was letters or words, or symbols, maybe symbols or just decoration. The figure was standing, not floating and more opaque than translucent, I could not see through it. He was clearly looking down at me.

Now, as stated above, I’ve studied death and the paranormal my whole life. I’ve worked as a professional paranormal investigator (long before any of these shows existed). And I knew that I had a lot of drugs in my system, but I was cognizant enough to try and see if he was real or if it was my imagination.

I looked around the room, everything was in focus, and he didn’t move. I reached my right arm out to feel for a cold spot or temperature change; I felt nothing. I was looking at him and he to me. I received no messages, telepathically or otherwise. I didn’t get a sense that it was family or a friend that had passed away, nor did I get a sense that it was Jesus. (I’m Jewish) and I didn’t get a sense that it was another religious figure.

After a minute or so with no change, I decided that I’m going to look away for a few seconds; as I did, then looked back, he was still there, unmoved, staring at me. I wasn’t afraid.

About another minute or two passes with this entity and I just looking at one another when a nurse peaks her head in the room to the right, I looked at her, then back and the figure was gone.

Perhaps I wasn’t dead long enough to see that tunnel of light or remember death, but I certainly remember this figure and all my knowledge of the paranormal, my rational thought at the time tells me beyond any shadow of a doubt that it was an authentic experience, not a hallucination.

I haven’t had that experience since, but I have talked about it with a friend of mine who is a professional meduim. She believes that it was my spirit guide.

Spirit guides are incorporeal beings that are assigned to us before we are born that help nudge and guide us through life. Some guides will stay with you throughout your entire life, and others will pop in every now and again to help you with specific areas of your life or goals you are trying to achieve. These guides are at varying levels of consciousness themselves. Some may be highly ascended masters (such as Jesus) and others might be your average spirit who just happens to be a master in a certain area. They may appear to have a male or female energy, though in reality they are just energy. They may be spirits who have had physical incarnations, or they might be spirits who have never taken corporeal form. You may be the only person they are guiding, or they may be on the “panel” for other people as well. They might be deceased relatives, but that is less likely. When it’s time for your spirit guides to help you, they tune in to your energy and help direct you to fulfill your earthly mission.

I can’t say for sure, but I can tell you this. Having died, you do think about why you’re still here. If death is permanent, (at least physically) then there must be a reason for you to come back; a purpose, some unfinished business.

I’ve always been the sort of person that bends over backwards to help others, now I may not have that physical flexibility ;) but working in film / video production and having survived 4.5 years of homelessness throughout my life, having dealt with child abuse and more, I did come up with a tv show concept years before my death, I just haven’t had the means (financially) to put the show together.

I can’t go into the details of it, but I know how to help the homeless (particularly those whom are victims of circumstance) in a way that has never before been attempted. I can feed them, clothe them, house them, educate them, provide transportation, health care and get them back to work so that they can provide for themselves and their families. I know how to do it. I believe this is why I am still alive. It is my destiny to help those I know I can help. I’m still lacking the financial means, I need to find the right producer for the project, someone who believes in me and the concept.

Before I end this post, I’ll conclude with my diagnosis in the hospital.

I was there for 4 days and after 4 days, I still couldn’t move. A physical therapist came in everyday to work with me. On the 4th day she said “Ok, I’ll see you tomorrow”. Then my Dr. came in (the worst Dr on the planet). Dr. Singh. He came in and said that he was sending me home, that there was nothing wrong with me. He thought I was faking because I could force my leg to move 2 inches above the bed. X-rays were negative, but he wouldn’t give me an MRI.

Now, I’m not an asshole, but I DEMANDED that he give me an MRI because I don’t do shit for attention, my health is not a joke and I’m not wasting my time and going into debt over nothing. He finally sent me to get an MRI which revealed Spinal stenosis plus L4, L5 & L5 S1 (lower back) bulging discs both pinching nerves.

Then he sent me home.

I was released at 11pm on March 22nd. I took as many painkillers / muscle relaxers as I could, (and I HATE taking meds) but it still took 45 minutes for me to get into the car (screaming and crying) in front of the hospital. I couldn’t go home because I lived alone, I was dependent on others, so my mom took me back to her apartment.

I couldn’t lean back in the car seat and because I couldn’t sit upright indefinitely nor could I sit relaxed; so I had to try to get out and go up the stairs. The meds started to kick in slightly, but it took everything I had to not scream whenever I moved. I was dizzy, nauseous, drowsy and my back pain was shooting all down my right leg, past my knee and into my foot, I was in fucking HELL!

I had a walker, but by the time I got to the stairs, I was completely drained, it had taken all of my energy. I made several attempts to get up one step, but I couldn’t raise my leg that high, it was impossible. I had an idea, but it was crazy… and that was to walk up the stairs BACKWARDS!!! I began at 1am using what little arm strength I had left to pull my body up because I couldn’t quite lift my leg high enough to get my heel on the step. My mom wanted to stand behind me in case I fell, but I told her to stay in front of me because if I was going to fall, I felt that I’d probably fall forward down the stairs. It was almost 3am before I got half way up the stairs, moaning (sometimes screaming and crying). My mom had to bring me a chair to sit on because I didn’t have the strength to stand anymore. My body had started to go into shock from the pain.

It was close to 5am before I got into my mom’s apartment. She wanted to call 911 again because I was passing out and she didn’t want me to fall down the stairs or die again, but I told her “No”. The ambulance would take me back to the same hospital and I’d have to see that same asshole Dr. who just released me. I didn’t want to be treated like garbage again, I’d rather just die.

A year later, I was in a car crash, I was stopped at a red light and got hit from behind. Now, I have L4, L5, L5 S1 and T9 herniated discs, a compressed disc, spinal stenosis and damage to my C1 & Atlas vertebrae.

I can’t sit, stand or even lay down for more than 30 minutes at a time without excruciating pain and considering that I’m currently undergoing a severe flare up of ulcerative colitis that has me practically bedridden most of the day… you can only imagine the hell I’m in.

I wouldn’t mind receiving a message from my spirit guide right about now, I could use the help.

Being dead was the best part of this entire experience. It’s dying that sucks!

Don’t fear death my friends; it’s trying to live that you should be terrified of!

Last updated March 19, 2020