A Happy Little Near Death Experience...

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I guess I should have been used to it by then. It’s not like that was the first time I had lost consciousness. There had been a few times in my short Basic Training career that it had abandoned me before that. It’s really not a rare occurance in any basic training cycle. Lazing around, under the bleachers, I didn’t figure I had a whole lot to do for a little while. I mean, what does one do while laying unconscious in the Oklahoma dust? I failed miserbly at mustering up the energy to find a way to be gainfully employed, but the trainees who had (just a few short seconds ago) been stting next to me, weren’t so lazy. My failing to remain sitting with them (as ordered by the Drill Sergeants) was sufficient motivation to send them yelling, pointing and otherwise carrying on (as if something significant had just happened). The Drill Sergeant tried their usual; yelling, threatening and even intimidation, but my consciousness refused to return to duty. One in particular must have come to the conclusion that my consciousness was niether “faking it”, sitting in the corner taking a temper tantrum, or even just being “mentally insecure and trying to attract attention” because he bent down to check to see if breathing an a pulse has taken off with my consciousness. Which apparently, they had… {{{at the risk of getting to into technical medical jargon here, Clinically, I had kicked the bucket.}}} Have you ever noticed that you just didn’t feel like yourself? While feeling suspiciously unlike you, have you ever looked down and noticed the ground was an uncomfortable distance below you? While feeling uncomfortably distant from good ol’ Terra Firma, did you notice that you were looking down at yourself? Now, I don’t mean looking down at yourself in a psychological, self-esteem, “living in a van down by the river” motivational speaker kind of way… I mean, I was literally hovering around 15 feet off the ground, seeing all the events that I just satired above. I’m kind of glad I wasn’t there at the time though, I mean, to hang out in the air, watching a Drill Sergeant do CPR on you is one thing, but the idea of actually being there? I mean… Eeew! His mustachioed and repeated lip lock on me? Feeling the precordial thump that apparently got things moving in my chest the way they had been my whole life up until then? But then again, I guess you could say that those lips an dstrong hands were enough to make my fuzzy little heart go “pitter pat” now, couldn’t you? ;~D I’ve often thought of that fateful October Day at Fort Sill, Oklahoma. That day when my first helicopter ride was kind of ruined with my tears. Apparenly I was freaking out over what I had just experienced and asking the medics questions that made them wonder if they should fly me to the ER or the Psych Ward. I’ve often thought of that day, when I have been puffing and sweating over a dead patient, working as if their life depended on it. I’ve thought about it as I have held the defibrilator paddles to a bared chest, hoping this next set of shocks would do the trick. I have thought about it when I have heard skeptics and naysayers call others who tell stories of near death “delusional”, “psycho” or just plain liars. I guess in my case, seeing is believing. I looked down and saw myself... I've wondered if patients' spirits ever looked down and watched me work on what used to be them.