Death brings new life.

My 5 Day Real Existence Experience

I started this blog calling it a near death experience but that is not accurate. We are not earthly beings having a spiritual experience. We are spiritual beings having an earthly experience. Teilhard de Chardin 

Death is just part of it. A small but important part.

My heart stopped, and I died
On December 12th 2010 at around 3:30am my heart stopped, and I died somewhere between my living room and the first corner out of our neighborhood. For 5 days I was here, but in another plane of existence. Real existence. 

Leading up to my heart attack

Security Crutch

For several years my career in the printing industry was feeling wrong. I would sit at work thinking; What am I doing here? I felt like I was not doing what I was on earth to do? I felt like the security I enjoyed working for a company held me back from my true purpose. Though that security had served it's purpose. However, for me, I believe that security can be a crutch; useful when needed, and cumbersome and in the way when no longer needed. I was afraid to let go of it and follow the promptings I was feeling.


Stress

Changes at work were going in a direction that I didn't want in my life. I love the people I work with and, as a manager, feel that people are the most important asset. Work was focusing on process above all. The end justifies the means. I knew I couldn't function as a manager in that kind of environment and felt the stress every day. I needed a way out. 

The way out

My daughter Amber, an industrial designer, and I invented a chair that had potential. Hope, sparked by a conversation with a loving and supportive friend, opened a door to market and sell the chair. See my chairs at www.cedarcrossing.cc

God works in wonderful ways

Restructuring at work caused my job to go up for auction. I felt like a worried kid lined up on the playground hoping to get picked on a team to play kickball. I knew I wasn't going to be picked. A prompting- maybe.  Or was it because I didn't want to play?


It doesn't matter

I believe God talks to all of us individually. We are His children, why wouldn't He? One day, I was walking through the bindery, distraught and worried (crutches in the way) about the possibility of losing my job and the security that went with it. The spirit said in very clear words, "it doesn't matter!" My immediate response was "It doesn't matter to you, but it matters to...." I realized who I was talking back too and just got a big smile on my face. I imagine he got a chuckle as well. Security gone, the chairs became a high priority.


Pushed too far

Saturday December 11th, the day before my heart attack. Got up at 4:30. Went to work setting up my shop to build cedar furniture. Forgot to eat. 7:00am My wife Tresa and I went to the temple. I had been going to the temple every day since my job went up for grabs in October. Shopped for equipment for woodworking because the Jordan River temple was closed and we missed the session at the Oquirrh Mountain temple. Immediately went to work on the shop again. Forgot to drink. Kept pushing and pushing because I was almost there and if I just worked a little more I could get it all done and be ready to make chairs. At 2:30 am the next morning I turned off the light to a new woodworking shop ready to make chairs. I pushed my body too far. I felt a bit of a pain in my chest. Thinking it was only heartburn, 

I had a drink of milk and went to bed.

Heart Attack

PLEASE, DON'T LET ME DIE

 At around 3:15am I woke up in excruciating pain. When you hear heart-attack survivors talk about feeling like an elephant was sitting on their chest, that is exactly what it felt like. I knew I was having a heart attack and I knew I was going to die. "To be, or not to be...," became real to me. In that brief moment I had a choice. All my life I have struggled with depression and I have always jokingly but honestly said, don't keep me alive, just pull the plug because I want to be on the other side. Here it was staring me in the face. In that decisive moment, I knew, without a doubt, and in the worst way, that I had something to do here. I wanted to be here! I called out to Tresa and said call 911. I began pleading and begging my Heavenly Father, "please, don't let me die." It was a constant outpouring of my soul. 

PLEASE, DON'T LET ME DIE! 

God is in charge

As I was pleading, I sensed Tresa coming in and out of the room relaying questions from someone on the phone. I didn't answer, I just kept pleading. All I felt was impending doom and I kept pleading. My son Max came in and said, "I am going to give you a blessing." I just kept pleading, please don't let me die. I could hear him giving me the blessing. He was talking about the power of the priesthood intermixed with my pleading. "The power to create worlds" - my pleading - "the power to move mountains" - pleading - "to do all things." I remember not hearing anything about blessing me to be healed or that I would be OK. Then these words: God is in charge.  The moment I heard those words a profound peace came over me and filled the room. I knew I was in God's hands. The feeling was so palpable that Tresa and Max became as calm as I was. We felt at peace, live or die.

Choreographed dance of life

As soon as the blessing ended the EMTs arrived.  My pleadings had changed from "don't let me die" to "please hurry." I knew I didn't have much time. I felt the pain but it was as though someone else was experiencing it because I felt so peaceful. Almost like watching what was going on instead of experiencing it. This amazing choreographed dance unfolded. I don't remember what they did only that everything happened exactly in the way it was supposed to. Each one of these wonderful men did what they were trained to do with perfection. I was in and out of awareness but the last thing I remember was being in our living room, being lifted out of some kind of chair, looking down at my feet, amusingly thinking, "those feet look like they belong to a dead man." Apparently I was right. That is about when my heart stopped beating.

Shocked back to life

During their incredibly choreographed ballet, the EMTs hooked me up to an EKG. They knew I was in bad shape and my heart might not make it. They prepped my chest for the defibrillator while I was still in my bedroom. I don't remember that but my son sure did. People die when the Left Anterior Descending artery (LAD) is 70% to 80% blocked, we found out later that mine was 100% blocked. When they got me into the ambulance they knew I was gone, they were dreading what they were going to tell Tresa who was sitting in the front seat of the ambulance. For Tresa, there was a calm feeling because of the blessing, except wanting to get to the hospital fast. She didn't catch the code words going back and forth between the driver, the hospital and the back of the ambulance. When the LAD is gone like mine they usually have to continue shocking until they get to the hospital. When they shocked my heart I sat up and said "ouch, that hurt! What did you guys do?". 

With grateful hearts.

The Olympus Cove EMTs that brought me back to life. Our whole family visited them on Christmas Eve, 13 days after my heart attack. Lots of hugs and tears. Thanks for all you do. 

You Guys Are AWESOME!

I was unaware of what was happening at the time, but apparently when we got to the Hospital, Tresa rushed to the back of the ambulance, and when I saw her I asked, "what happened, where am I?" The EMTs told me my heart had stopped and they brought me back. I said "you guys are awesome!" I don't remember anything at all. This is what Tresa and the EMTs told me later.

Joyful Expression

 Usually when Code Blue comes across the PA there is a mad rush. Tresa expressed a calm reverence in the ER. Everyone was quietly, calmly, standing and watching. Tresa says that when I was being wheeled into the Emergency Room I had a big smile on my face. She was saying to herself, If he goes out with a smile on his face I will be so mad.  

Slammed Back Into Pain

My first memory of coming-to was when the ER doctor was asking me questions. It was like being hit by a car. My whole body was slammed back into the pain. I remember the doctor asking, "on a scale of one to ten, how much pain do you feel." I thought what a dumb question. "ISN'T THERE A NUMBER ABOVE TEN?!" I can't remember anything after that until I came-to in the ICU where I spent 5 amazing, wonderful days. Where others were suffering and dying around me, 

for me it was a sanctuary of spiritual growth, understanding, and light. 

For my family, it was a calm amidst the storms of life.

Back down to earth

After the 5 days in the ICU, I had one of the most wonderful transitions of my life. The story of two sets of footprints in the sand comes to mind. The Lord walks daily with us side by side. There are times in our lives when those footprints become one set. Some ask why the Lord left, others thank the Lord for carrying them. It is our life to live, He has to let us down to live it. I was gently placed back down to earth in the most wonderful way. I will continue that part of my new life next.

My Heroes For Life

Dr. Scott Hacking has dedicated his life to saving life. I know I am in God's hands, and here on Earth it is the hands of dedicated men and women through which God carries us. Dr Hacking's hands were Gods hands for me. He saved my life with his dedication, discipline and lifelong training to be inspired in his art. He flawlessly cared for me, opened my LAD with a Stent, using equipment all invented by other dedicated doctors and coated with a drug called Plavix, more miracles of life developed by inspired doctors. I asked Dr Hacking if he would be my cardiologist. His response was "until you or I die, we will be connected for life." I can't express enough how grateful I am for miracles and the men and women who bring them to pass. I am grateful for all the doctors, nurses, nutritionists, rehab specialists, neighbors, friends and family who have cared for me and my family during this time. Thank you.

This is John my first RN/BSN. What a blessing he is. He protected my privacy like a papa bear. 

 Desiree Helped with my rehab along with Sean. I don't have a picture of Sean but we had long conversations about family and marriage and life.

Christmas 2010

a celebration of life

Death brings new life, continued

In Gods Hands


What are all these bruises?

At last it was time to kick me out of the ICU. Usually patients go from the ICU to other rooms in the hospital before being released, so it was unusual for me to be released directly from the ICU. My wife went to get the car and I started to get dressed to go home. When I took the hospital gown off I looked down at my body and was shocked. It didn't look like my body. I had lost 10 lbs. or more. Not only was there a big burn mark from the defibrillator on my chest, but there were bruises all over my arms and legs and sides and chest. I had patched holes up and down my arms from all the IVs, and larger holes on my inner thigh from where the doctors went in to place the stent in my heart, and where they put in a pump to help my heart to keep going. But with all these bruises and holes, I felt so good. I couldn't figure it out. The hospital had stopped giving me drugs after my first three days in the hospital, so I knew I wasn't high. But I felt no pain. I felt strong. I even felt powerful. But my body didn't look that way at all. In that moment, I felt a profound gratitude, and knelt down and thanked God for my life.

The Touch of The Master's Hand

I love art and art history. I have studied it since high school and love the great painters and sculptors of the Renaissance. Especially Michelangelo. After my senior year of high school I went on a tour of Europe. There I saw and studied the true genius of Michelangelo's sculpture. He is a master at creating emotions and passion with his use of exaggerated features and scale of proportion. I was especially impressed by his Pieta. The figure of Jesus Christ after the crucifixion, gently held by a loving mother. On Mary's face is a look not of grief, but of resignation--a patient, understanding endurance. For, for this was He born, and she knew it. Michelangelo's figure of Christ is in every way a sculpture of a perfect young man, teenage boy almost. Perfect skin, perfect hair. Content, without any flaw, except the wound that pierced his side and the prints of the nails in his hands and feet. I have thought about that sculpture and talked about it often throughout my life. My family didn't tell me that St. Marks hospital had a replica of the Pieta in the lobby. They wanted it to be a surprise. They could never have known the impact it would have. 

My Lord, My God

The hospital wouldn't let me walk out on my own power. "Policy." They put me in a wheel chair to take me through the lobby to where Tresa was waiting in the car. It was a week before Christmas and the lobby was full of families with kids waiting to sit on Santa's knee. As the nurse was weaving me through the crowd I was pondering about my bruised body and how grateful I was to be here and how the Lord had carried us through this whole ordeal. As I was wondering how it was possible that I could feel so good and yet be so bruised, I looked up and the crowd of people began to part. Right in front of me was Michelangelo's Pieta. I asked the nurse to stop. I stood up and walked over to the sculpture. Here was that perfect body. Not the bruised and scarred body of a man who had just been put through the physical hell of crucifixion. As I looked at the replica of this masterpiece made centuries before, I felt as though Michelangelo had sculpted this just for me. For this moment. I realized that the way I felt was the way the artist depicted Jesus. I realized that it was because of what Jesus went through that I was able to experience the feeling I had right then. My body was bruised and had holes in it yet it felt as though it was perfect and ready for my new life. It was all I could do to keep myself from falling to the floor and weeping right there in front of all those children and families. As I looked at Mary holding her son I could sense my Heavenly Parents holding me. I was overwhelmed. When I got into the car Tresa knew because she had seen me get up from the wheelchair. She said, "Did you see it?" I just leaned into her arms and wept. I didn't stop weeping until I got home and was able to spend time in our room in prayerful gratitude. My family who were waiting at home to see me had to wait a little longer until I had gained my composure. 

God lives. He is our Father. Jesus Christ lives. He is our Lord and Savior. They are mindful of every one of us. They know our pain and can give us strength. We need their strength to accomplish what we are here for. The trials we experience here are just that. I consider them as tests or opportunities to step higher. Jesus is our advocate, our mentor, our tutor. We are not just physical, earthly beings. This isn't all there is. This life is very temporary, very wonderful, very hard and very worth it.

Now comes the hard part

It's our life. They have to let us down to live it.

Next.

Death brings new life part 3

Back down to earth

I've never been in outer space so I don't know what it is like to be weightless, but I know what it feels like to have the weight of the world bearing down on you. It's all in our heads mind you, but it feels real. 

Feast of the spirit

After I got home from the hospital and expressed my gratitude to the Lord, I gained my composure and joined my family. We sat around the dinner table eating and talking about the experience from each of our perspectives. It was a wonderful feast of the Spirit. And then, the Lord felt it was time to let me down from my spiritual high, back to live my life. I excused myself from the table and went into the other room. 

My usual struggles return
Like the roaring of the North Wind, I was hit with a rush of emotion--in total contrast to what I had felt over the past 5 days. It felt as though my usual daily struggle of fears, depression and worry had been held back and all at once, the dam broke. Anxiety like I had never felt before overcame me. My chest felt heavy and I was having a hard time breathing. I thought I was having another heart attack.  

Don't worry

I returned to my family and told them, "Whatever happens, don't worry; it will all be OK." Then I announced that I was having another heart attack. They all sat calmly, processing. Not a worried look from any of them. Tresa knew what a real heart attack looked like. I didn't. And I was convinced it was happening again. She calmly got up from the table put her hand on my back and said, "Tell me how you are feeling." I told her all my symptoms. I was sure she would agree that it was time to call 911. No matter what I did or said, I couldn't convince anyone that I was dying again. 

Well, this can happen

Finally I took matters into my own hands and picked up the phone to call 911. Tresa calmly suggested I call the doctor first. She made me call. I was so mad at her. "I am dying here and you are making me call the doctor." I had to leave a message for the doctor on call. I started to panic. What do I do? No one cares if I die here! . . .  I know! A blessing worked before. "Max, will you give me a blessing?" Max and my son-in-law Ben agreed to give me a blessing. It was the longest blessing I had ever experienced in my life. Max was talking about all the wonderful things I had done in my life and listing all the reasons I was a good dad. He talked about how the house was fixed up so nice and the shop was ready to build chairs . . . and on and on. I almost interrupted him to remind him that I was dying and needed him to hurry. The doctor finally called back after what seemed like an hour and I ran through all my heart attack symptoms. He said "well this can happen." I thought GREAT, now we are getting somewhere! Then he proceeded to tell me that people after having open heart surgery or stents put in feel the tiniest pain in their chest and feel like it is happening again. He assured me that I was OK and just needed to relax. I did all I could to convince him I was dying and he just kept repeating himself. Now I was mad at Tresa AND the doctor.

We have to build spiritual muscles

I am still me, right here, right now. For all of us, that is the way it is and always will be. I thought my heart attack experience had changed me forever--and in embryo I had, but I have more growing to do. The Lord can't do that for me. He is there to lift us, but we still have to build the spiritual muscles ourselves. While I was being lifted by the spirit, time passed in a different way. For me it felt like a lifetime of change, but in the world it was only 5 days. The change has to come from me. Over time and with the Lord's help.

Don't Give Up

I love the line in Josh Groban's, "You Are Loved," that says "Don't give up, it's just the weight of the world. When your heart's heavy I, I will lift it for you." Since who we really are is not of this world, the weight of the world just feels heavy. The closer we are to God, the closer we are to knowing who we are and the farther away from the world we are. The weight of the world gets lighter the farther we are from it.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EGLSk3AVcUU

Weightless

I have a feeling that one day, every one of us will know what it is like without the weight of this world. I think it will be more comfortable for us if we already know what it feels like.