Back from the Dead Twice

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4 years ago

It was just an average sunny day in August that twisted my life, a beginning larger than life itself.  Finding me in a suspended state between Heaven and Hell was not my first choice in spending that ‘97 Labor Day weekend. Something dreadful happened. It was as if Life itself had suddenly vanished.  The sound was compete blackness and deafening all around. A glow of lightness had appeared all around me.  Not like a person or being but an entity larger than life.  A bit like a passage in Genesis (KJV, Genesis 32) where Jacob wrestled with an Angel, I found myself arguing with a celestial being.  It was not my time to leave this life I chose and was now living. I repeated my demands to the entity of another dimension.  My choice was clear, to hang on to what I had known as my life on Earth or move into the unknown. Freewill had overcome the unlikely conversation.  I found out in the coming years, freewill plays a large part in our lives.  My own decision had been fulfilled as voices were echoing through the murky waters of Keystone Lake. A familiar female’s voice rang out, "Someone's floating behind the boat."

I could feel the numbness burning through my arms and legs but with a floating sensation that cannot be explained within the normal boundaries of the English language. The celestial entity had laid upon me a perfect peace in my heart but nothing could prepare my friends what had transpired a happy outing into a dreadful event. A quarter after Midnight, August 31st, 1997.   Many will remember the fate of Princess Diana killed in a car accident at that same precise moment.  It was almost my same destiny that night, that exact same minute only I was lucky enough to live one more day.

It began with a beautiful sunny day in Tulsa, only I had to catch up on some unfinished business at the shop.  One job led to another and I hated to leave unfinished business. I read once in Poor Richard’s Almanac, “But dost thou love life, then do not squander time, for that's the stuff life is made of, as Poor Richard says.” Time was never enough to accomplish the tasks at hand.  Even life’s pleasures from family and friends seem to get swallowed by my hardships of making a descent living in this modern world.

The sun shone bright during the drive, a warm feeling flew through the windshield of my little truck.  It was fading over the green hills overlooking Keystone Lake, a beautiful sunset to begin a night of fun and dancing.  My party of friends had already reserved us a camping spot for the weekend. This squelched my worries of anyone drinking and driving that night. Something a lot of us overlook at friendly gatherings of friends, escaping the weekly grind of life. The plan was simple, to make the best of the next 48 hours left of the weekend, creating a welcome retreat; an overdue mini-vacation from the gruesome pace of hours upon hours at work that occupied most of my personal life.

The boat shop doubled as a local boating dock and a gathering place for nighttime entertainment.  It was the happening spot on Keystone Lake for an evening retreat. Besides pampering the boat owners with fuel and snacks, it sported a full-size bar upstairs with karaoke, dancing and drinks on the upper deck. The bar that evening was full with casually dressed boaters and a few campers like me. I danced into the night with several of the beautiful women even my boss was enjoying himself. 

One by one I made my way around to each woman in the bar, dancing to melodies of the night. As the night grew the crowd began to thin to a scattered few of us.  The time came for bar closing approached quickly.  We all decided to enjoy a midnight dip and cool off from all the dancing. Our little crowd of friends had grown to eight now. It was just big enough to fill our boss’s 32-foot cabin cruiser for a short cruise on the lake. The boat sported two rows of seats for all of us, and slim aisle leading to small cabin below. Eight of us loaded up and away we went. The trip over to Sandy Beach was only fifteen minutes from the boat shop, a quick zip to the nearby swimming area.

 The water, spraying in our face, was a welcome relief from the smoky damp air of the bar. I had enjoyed the many dances I consumed that night, something I wouldn’t forget.  We made the trip to the beach in only eight minutes, just a few minutes after Midnight. Everyone was anxious to dive in and cool off. ”Whoa … whoa,” I yelled, as the depth of the water was barely waist deep. My younger days I had been a lifeguard and saw what foolishness and shallow water could do.  Slowly, one by one I escorted them to the back of the boat, everyone disbursed into the warm waters of Keystone Lake. I was the last one left on the boat. I was making my way to the ladder in the back and the wooden ski deck mounted on the rear of the 32-foot cabin cruiser.  Then, something went dreadfully wrong. "Where was I," I remembered faintly. The boat was gone. Everyone was gone.

 The calmness was evident as I tried to bring things back into focus. It was dark, not like the water that kept me afloat. The darkness was as thick as it was eerie. A warm disposition comforted my whole body almost like bathing in a room full of sunlight. The feeling of helplessness faded and a peaceful spirit invaded my being. I can’t explain it but it was there. The conversation with the celestial entity seemed to take hours only to find out later, I was in the water less than five minutes.

My decision to accept Life over Death was now reality. I always thought after hearing of a death, how boring death would be over the sweetness of life.  As I regained consciousness, the water amplified the small talk coming from the other passengers on the beach, less than 40 feet away. One of the girl’s voices rang out, "Someone's floating behind the boat." I felt the numbness burning through my arms and legs; helplessly I floated face down wanting to join them unable to move. The worst was my aching pounding shoulders and neck, it was almost unbearable.

The girl with the voice that echoed though the water finally waded over to fish me out.  She lifted one of my shoulders out of the murky waters, I gasped for air and prayed to her, “Don’t let go! I can’t feel or my move my legs!” My expression and panicked voice got everyone’s attention. Between seven of them, I coached them in lifting and slowly lowering my limp body to the middle of the boat. One of the guys held my head between his feet from moving. I tried to calm them as they moved me to floor of the boat.  We slowly took off as the boat lurched faster and faster. I could hear the ship-to-shore radio screaming with static, the driver frantically trying to contact anyone. Finally I could hear the Lake Patrol shouting, "Repeat … Repeat …"

As the cabin cruiser slowly docked I could hear the "whoop … whoop … whoop …" blades of the medevac helicopter landing in the almost vacant parking lot. I knew it was bad when the medic slipped the collar brace on my neck and strapped me down on a slim stretcher. I remember telling everyone, “It’s gonna be ok …,” The evening waitress I had flirted with all night inched slowly to give me a small kiss; a tear dropped hitting my cheek. The helicopter crew and I headed to the makeshift helipad as I wondered what could have been.   I started drifting out as the morphine began to kick in; everything seemed to be going a mile a minute.



Funny thing was I didn’t even feel the stick when the Flight nurse inserted the IV to my right arm. I surprised the Flight nurse as I jokingly muddered about the $25 Christmas helicopter ride I passed up would have been cheaper than the emergency route unfolding. The last thing I remember was landing at St. Francis heliport and seeing the fuzzy EMERGENCY sign and hearing the sliding glass doors quickly opening. It was several days later after waking up that I heard about Princess Diana fate and her terrible accident athat same instance,  quarter after midnight,  that same night.   I was informed from my doctors of my serious dilemma. C5, C6 and C7 of my neck vertebra's were smashed leaving me paralyzed from the shoulders down. My only thoughts were, hearing of the Princess’ accident, "I was the lucky one."

*****

Touching the threshold of death gave me a new look on Life.  21 years of rehabilitation, enjoying life and learning to readjust my life style, death touched me again. Waking up one Wednesday morning, janurary 5, 2018, an aide woke me up to the fresh smell of brewing coffee.   It was an average morning ready for breakfast, wheelchair transfer and get back to my everyday schedule.   It hit suddenly, like a ton of bricks slamming on top me.   She took my temperature, 103 and climbing, a nurse dropped by and immediately called 9-1-1.  I never remembered the paramedics arriving.


10 days later I was waking up at INTEGRIS Baptist ICU to my family watching me open my eyes.  The pulmonary Doctor informed me of my predicament.  On life support machine, I was recovering from pneumonia, Flu A and Flu B; a triple  complication giving me a 20% chance of survival.  Instead of looking on the bleak side of things; on a peg board, (I couldn't talk) I pointed out the letters, "I  am a  f-i-g-h-t-e-r."  17 days on life support they pulled the plug, watching me as a survivor! Little could they imagine, after 6 months, 4 hospitals and rehabilitation, I am back at home recovering completely.   Here I am "alive and kicking" ready to move on with life.  Even COVID-19 has stayed away from me now.

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