Personal Narrative: Near Death Experiences

On 09/12/2016, I Deputy Daniel Pruitt was dispatched to 52455 West Highway 16 for an unattended death compliant. I arrived on scene st 6:45pm and meet with Creek County EMS unit 40.

Cozy coffee shops, warm summers, friendly hugs…1.2.3. Disastrous events occur all the time. We are always aware that someone, somewhere in the world, is hurtling forwards into tragedy. Tragic endings leave behind unanswered questions, unfulfilled dreams, unspoken thoughts. Those who love you are left behind, in the dust of your presence, spent to forever remember only your memory, not your existence. Crisp slices of toast, piping hot cups of tea, fresh strawberries…1.2.3. We all tend to forget an end exists. We spend our lives compiling as many happy memories as we can, fully enjoying the good days, deeply mourning the sad ones. When tragedy strikes, only then are we reminded that the end is there, and we scurry and try once again to make the most out of

I recall tugging at my nether lands, and a swoop of hands into my womb. The doctors got the baby and she let out a cry that sounded triumphant. They showed me the baby and it seemed like they whisked her away too quickly. There is a fog around the edges of that memory. The doctors said that my baby was doing fine. My body started to shake and wouldn't stop. I was wheeled into recovery and then all was dark. I didn't bond with my baby until the next morning- seven hours later. She was beautiful but I felt very unfulfilled.

We went to ER and got to see a baby get drawn from his arm the parents were upset because it was the second time they had to draw his blood. The dad stepped out and the mom stayed and helped hold the baby down. There was a patient with shingles that I only got to see from outside but the phlebotomist showed

I couldn't believe what was happening. My dad turns to the doctor and says "What do you mean ICU?" That's when she tells us I have bleeding in my brain and that I can't eat or drink and need an IV right away. I'm still so mad at my dad to this day because he promised me I wouldn't need an IV. After they get the needle in, they put a bunch of medicine into me and said that it would make me a little weird. "A little weird" wasn't even close to what it did to me. I thought I was going to have to get moved in a mental hospital after taking that medicine. I couldn't spell or talk and when I did talk nothing I said made sense. People were constantly texting me and I didn't know what I was typing so everyone responded with "what is wrong with you?" Honestly at this point I had no idea. My boyfriend was still here and was laughing at me because of how crazy I sounded but I was honestly scared and thought I was going to be this way forever.

Before realizing what was happening, a nurse was trying to put an IV in my arm. The needle compared to my little arm looked huge and too long to go in my arm. I refused to let them touch me and tried to run to my mom. When they had a hard time succeeding at putting my IV in, they decided to get help from my mom. She calmly told me to lay down and to watch her, while they put the needle in. It was hard to ignore the pain pulsing through my arm and all the commotion happening all around me. I looked at my mom and saw the tears that were falling down her face as they held me down. When they were done, there was an IV and a cast on my arm, so that I would not be able to pull the IV out. Then they wheeled me into another room where my mom held and comforted me, while we waited to hear the results.

Waiting for my twelfth surgery to begin, the nurse struggled to get the I.V. to work. She had tried numerous times without success and as I cried, a kind woman came in, held my hand, taught me techniques to calm down and helped get me a numbing shot. The nurse suddenly got the I.V. in on her next try! I was in awe of this angelic person whom I have since learned was a Child Life Specialist. I decided right then I wanted to be just like her.

Please, oh please let the words come. I sit, and stare, and type, and I backspace. No one will like it. My work is crap. Crap, crap, crap. I crumple my paper watch it fall. The clock taunts with its ticking reminding me of all I want to forget. It creates a beat; a song. Poetic chords and dismal notes ring in my ears. But no, this is thought I should avoid. I am great- better than great. People will love this. Oh please, please, please let them love this. Will my legacy amount to nothing more than abysmal hope? This is the last time I think of it. Oh please don’t let me think of it. The blank page stares at me and I begin to write. One word, then another, then another, and another. You will never know what comes out onto the page until it is

Well this year was a hell of a year. I mean, i didn't pass any of the semesters but i did observe a ton of stuff that went on in the class. The class in general was pretty lit. Every day went by and i honestly did some work. The class was ready to learn as mrs g was ready to teach. I mean yea we had some days were we didn't want to learn anything and there were also days when mrs g didn't want to teach. But ima be honest, doing the work we did wasn't in my best interest. Most of the projects we did in class i worked on, but at the end i didn't end up liking how i did it so i wouldn't even bother turning anything in. like the obituary we had to write about ourselves. I liked the meaning behind this but honestly i didn't want to work on that because it just brought back memories of my friends that were killed.

I’ve always wondered what death feels like, finally coming to the point in your life where everything stops. Is it just a sudden silence? What does death taste like, what does it look like? People say that you can have a near-death experience, but I sure as hell haven’t ever had one. None of that “Life flashes before your eyes” B.S. I mean sure, I’ve had a few bumps and bruises, and a couple times I’ve come home anything but sober. I’ve never really come close to dying or death in general, well not until that day in the woods.

My surgeon, Dr. Mainigi came back into the room with two other doctors and she told me that it was time for me to be wheeled away. I said my “I love you’s” to my family as one of the male doctors wheeled me away. He was asking me questions, trying to ease my nerves a little bit. We finally reached the operating room. I transferred from the hospital bed to the operating table. My heart was beating so fast, as I realized this was really happening. There were at least 10 doctors in the room and there was a light above me shining down on me. Dr. Mainigi anesthetized me and before I knew it, I saw

A couple days later I woke up again and I was tangled in more IV’s than I was before and I had tubes coming from the side of my ribs and a nasal cannula coming from my nose and I felt more out of it than I was before. I couldn’t move or feel my legs, I could barely move my feet, and I wasn't able to sit up. I was so confused on what was happening, then I heard someone talking to me and asking me if I knew what day it was and if I remembered what happened. I didn't know what exact day it was but I remembered all the pain I was going through. My nurse informed me of what happened and why I was in the State I was in. Turns out my spinal cord had a stroke because it wasn’t comfortable with having those rods inside of me, so the rods were removed.

I was so out of it I turn to the ambulance personnel and said, “Y’all smell like cotton candy.” A dark and bumpy ride to the new hospital resulted in even more waiting, when we arrived my room wasn’t ready yet. Several different Doctors and nurses swarmed me like click work all asking the exact same questions in different forms until it was time for me to get prepped for surgery- surprisingly I was not nervous at all. The last thing I remember before anesthesia flew me away to dream land was music being turned on and talking about how I did my nails. When I woke up the first thing I asked for was water it felt like I swallowed the entire Dead Sea. I remember feeling so upset because the nurse who was with me during recovery kept on saying I had too wait. My grandmother had bought me a large smoothie from Smoothie King which instantly brighten the inconvenient situation. Even though it all happened so fast it is an experience that I will never in my entire life

I don't know what to answer when faced with the question of whether or not I believe in the afterlife. To be quite frank, I don't have a definite answer to give, as I find myself constantly turning those same type of questions over and over in my mind. What would it be like to die? Which way would I choose to go? What happens after? Day after day I hear the murmur of the questions in the back of my mind; pushing back the answers I might face, too scared to deal with what my mind might come up with. Honestly, I hope there is no afterlife. Add all of that to the fact that I have never been a very open person to begin with, when anyone would touch on the subject I would normally just end up saying something the other person would want to hear, particularly when it came to family.

As we mature, we learn to appreciate certain people in our lives, for instance: our grandparents. We live with the fear that we can lose them in the blink of an eye, as every passing day brings them closer to their death beds (hyperbole), but we're too busy living our lives, making time for work, school, and friends (Euphemism). We assure ourselves that we have forever to spend with them, but that is where we are mistaken. Unfortunately, this year in January, I experienced the cruel reality of death, myself. I have realized, truly how much death can change your perspective on many aspects of life. When I faced with this death, I began to appreciate family more, began to express my love for them more out of the fear that any goodbye could be the last.