Monday, July 30, 2018

How I died in a Honda and woke up with a pacemaker




How I died in a Honda and woke up with a pacemaker

"Give yourself this gift as your day of death approaches: let your faults die before you."

- Seneca, Letters 27.2

Sitting outside my office with few minutes to kill, (I usually got to work an hour early to beat the traffic), I start drifting a bit. My eyes lost a bit of vision at the edges and my head nodded, weak and in poor control. I found myself in a blue vault, medieval blue, with images of old timey people pasted in lifelike ways to the walls. None of this had any depth – it was Greek Orthodox in manner – Icons of symbols for the most part, all recognizable from before the Renaissance, or the time of any movement at all for that matter. Timeless, except the stars blinked off and on and there was a slow kaleidoscope of lateral movement as I watched. I’m wasn’t there either, just the history of me killing time in a waiting room. I might have been smoking, it’s tough to remember.

I jerked and thought, maybe I’m in trouble and maybe this is serious, and that maybe I should get out of the car, but it was too late and I just sort of sat there and continue to nod off.

Reborn a lifetime later, though still early for work, I jumped out of the car and made it as far as the badged door into my work area, where I passed out, based on the documentation from the ambulance. I then spent more time in the waiting room.

I woke up at night, in a hospital, on a heart monitor, feeling stuporus but alive. I had questions, all of which I repeated endlessly to loved ones over the next few days.

The Honda was blue, the pacemaker St. Jude.



Stay tuned for part 2:

How I went to bed and woke up 5 days later with a beard and my crotch shaved


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