Friday, March 11, 2011

Death's Second and Most Traumatic Visit

 At the age of fifteen I had already experienced the death of someone that was close. It was now time, once again at age fifteen, for me to lose someone that was as close to me as a brother. His name was Lance Prater and his death changed me, forever.
  In 1974, my Mother was a nurse at the local hospital working on the same floor that my grandmother was a patient. I had decided that I was going to become a doctor, so, I spent as much time at the hospital as the staff would allow. As I was standing at the window of my grandmother's room I heard the sound of an ambulance siren. My pulse became a little faster in anticipation of the arrival of the ambulance. When I got a glimpse of the flashing lights of the ambulance, out the door I flew. I found my Mom and told her that I was headed to the ER to see the medics bring in their patient. My Mom told me to stay out of the staff's way as I was a regular at the ER when an ambulance approached. The ER Nurse knew my Mother and my interest in medicine and tolerated my visits because I stayed out of the way and knew when to stay away from the patients and their families. I had seen numerous patients being brought in and had some of the staff even giving me lessons on basic emergency medicine. They thought it great that I was showing such an interest in medicine at such an early age. This ambulance call would be the last one I would see for quiet a while because of the people involved. I came out of the elevators and made a quick right down the hall to the ER department when I saw my football coach walk in with the front of his shirt covered in blood. Confusion had set in because several more people came in and I knew them all. I hit the button that opened the door to the rear staff entrance and saw a gurney with a body, lying face down, completely covered in a sheet, being wheeled into a room. I knew, from my experience, that it was serious to be put in a room. If a patient came in as a non life threatening issue the staff usually put the patient in cubicles, separated by a curtain. One person rolled the patient in the room and immediately came back out of the room. This was not good. I exited the ER the same way I went in and walked around to the ER waiting room. It was filled with many of my classmates from school and the brother and Mother of my best friend. I mean we were close. If he was not at my house , then I was at his, most of the time. I saw Lance's Mom, his brother, and the hospital chaplain, along with many others from our school. A couple of the ER nurses were getting Doug, Lances brother, taking him to one of the cubicles to get checked out." Where was Lance?" I was asking myself. Then I started to think about the body the staff had put in the room and left him there. I saw another classmate and asked him if he knew what was happening. He said that Doug had been going too fast down 4th ave. in Glencoe and lost control of his car. He did not know who was in the car other than Doug. Then another ambulance pulled in and the medics brought in Wayne, another friend from the same grade. He was in a lot of pain, so, I could not get any information out of him. "Who else, was in that car?" I knew there was someone that did not make it because all the staff was treating Doug and Wayne. I left the waiting area and enter the rear staff entrance where the body was being kept. I had to know who that person was. I opened the door and went inside and it was eerily quiet. His blue socks were sticking out from under the sheets, facing downward. I was scared to death. I walked over to the head of the bed. The sheet that was covering the body was soaked with blood at the head of the bed. A lot of blood. I found the nerve to raise up the sheet and quickly backed away, almost falling. I could see enough of his face to tell it was Lance. The Parietal and Occipital region of his skull was crushed. I could see brain matter lying across the back of his neck. I could not move. I stood there with my mouth open and my mind was telling me to run like hell but I could not move. I have no idea how long I stood there when I heard Lance tell me to tell his Mother that he was in a good place. I could not be sure if the sound came from the room or inside my head. It was very clear and unmistakable, "Tell my Mother that I am in a good place." It was lance's voice but after seeing what I had just seen I knew the sound did not come from the body under the sheet. Then I heard, "Will you do that?" Again, very clear and from where it came, I do not know. I said, crying over and over, yes, yes, yes, when my Mom's friend, the ER nurse walked into the door and grabbed me and turned me toward the door and escorted me to the seventh floor, where my Mom was working. I was taken to the nurses lounge and my Dad picked me up some time later. The next several weeks were a blur. Once again, I was a messenger for someone from the other side. I have never forgot those times and now, I have a son named Lance.       theblogmeister

Thursday, March 10, 2011

Death's First Visit

  Having had the experience with near death, saving the life of my Mother, it was time for death to impact my life. Five years after the experience of cheating death the angel of death showed me the way a life is taken. It was not a stranger that died in the summer of 1974, it happened twice to personal relationships. The first happened to a good friend's father. Randy, who at the age of fifteen was a close friend that had a Mother and Father old enough to be his grandparents. Randy was a mistake when he was born. When I say mistake I mean that his parents did not plan to have a child in their 'golden years.' Randy had a nephew that was older than him. Anyway, Randy, his Father, brother-in-law and I, were shrimping in the Mobile Bay. Harvey, Randy's Father, Hinky, the brother-in-law, Randy, and myself had been out on the bay for several hours when Randy decided he was ready to go back to his Sister's house. Harvey, Hinky, not his real name, and I was not ready to give it up. Arrangements were made for Randy to be picked up at the marina so we could finish shrimping. We stayed another two hours before we decided we better quit before fish and game stopped us and found out we were way over the limit for non-commercial shrimping. As we were putting the boat up on the trailer I looked over at Harvey standing up against the truck. He had a far away look in his eyes. After cranking the boat up against the trailer stop and locking it down I looked over to get Harvey to help me but he was not standing where he was a few minutes ago. I jumped down off the trailer and saw Harvey lying on his back with an abrasion over his left eye. I ran over to him and I knew immediately that something was terribly wrong. I started yelling for Hinky when a woman from the next slip over came to help Harvey. She started CPR and someone called an ambulance. I later learned that the woman was a registered nurse. I knew without a doubt that he was dead. He was. It was rough on Randy's whole family. Seeing what the nurse had done gave me the desire to go into medicine. I was fascinated with seeing what the nurse was doing to try and defeat death. I had found my calling. That desire would be questioned the following October when an event happened that rocked my world.   to be cont.......   theblogmeister

Wednesday, March 9, 2011

Personal Visits From Beyond

  I want to first of all state emphatically that I do not presume to possess any psychic ability. However, things have happened to me as early as 11 years old that defy logical explanation. My first experience with the other world happened, as I said, when I was 11 years old. I come from a family of 5 kids. There are only 4 of us left after the passing of my brother in 1989. My first other world, I say this because it cannot be explained in the world we live in, experience happened in 1969 at the age of eleven. My three brothers and I were walking across the field to catch the school bus. I had a younger sister, that was three years old, and my Mother at our home on that morning. As my three brothers and I were waiting on the bus I was overcome with a strong sense of doom. At that age I had no understanding of my exact feelings I just knew that I needed to go back home. It was like a voice inside my head that told me what I had to do. It was so strong I knew I had to go back. After some threats and warnings of a butt whipping from my brothers I turned and headed back home. Half way home the bus stopped to pick up my brothers and away it went. I walked into the house and immediately began trying to answer my Moms questions and give her a viable reason that I chose not to go to school. For fear of sounding crazy I did not tell my Mom of the overwhelming feeling I had and the voice inside my head telling me to go home. My Mom had no way to take me to school because we owned one vehicle that was in use at that time by my Dad and his job. After my mom settled down my sister and I began to watch TV. She was the only one glad that I skipped school, at that time. I was a little edgy because I seemed to be waiting for the reason I was told to come home. I did not have to wait very long. I went to ask my Mom something and found her on the floor in her bedroom, lying on her back clutching her chest. She was in so much distress that she could not talk. I immediately ran to the phone to call the plant where my Dad worked. The plant operator, after I told her that I needed Charles Riley and it was an emergency, she asked me what extension. We had the phone number of where my Dad worked and other important numbers in a place that all of us knew. The one thing that I did not know was the extension of his department. When the operator asked, without hesitation, I told her extension 36. My Dad was immediately on the phone and after telling him the situation he and an ambulance arrived at about the same time. The next day my Mother was in Birmingham having quadruple bypass heart surgery. There is not a doubt in my mind that if I had not been there my Mom would have died. That is a lot for an eleven year old to grasp. I told mt Dad why I was at home when I should have been at school. He told me that God used me to save my Mom. That made it even harder for me to grasp. Why did he, if it was God, choose me. I believe in God, however, I do not think it was God telling me to go back home. It may have been a spiritual entity doing God's work. I do not know. I struggled with this for many years. I am definitely grateful that my Mom's life was spared but the lingering wonder of it all has never left me. I can't explain how an entity can put information into someones head to use for a specific purpose. That is exactly what happened. I cannot tell you, to this day, why me. It was the beginning of some more other world experiences. Some of them were good and some were evil. I wish it was not me.      theblogmeister

Tuesday, March 8, 2011

Dreams I'll Never See

  To get a complete understanding of my situation you will need to go back to the beginning of my stories. My situation is a unique one, in that I have not read very many that are similar to mine. What happened to me made a profound impact in my life. For years, I self-medicated to deal with the pain of my experiences. The visitations have not stopped but the frequency has subsided. I comb the Internet to look for stories like mine. So far, no luck. When I do find a story that is interesting I publish it, here. I hope I am not violating any copyright infringement laws. What are they gonna do? The reason I  am so passionate about these writings is because every family member I have lost has come to visit me. I do not know why, I am not a palm reader or a Shamus. I was normal until that one visit was not a pleasant experience. It is the one demon that visits me on a regular basis. I ask, why me? The answer has to be that I was the reason of his death. I interrupted the cycle, I suppose. Whatever the reason, I am a changed man. This story is from an elderly caregiver. You decide.
                                                                                             For family members, who may not know or be involved with other elders as they are with their own parents, can be really upset by these dead visitors. However, there's no need to be upset. They're just passing visitors, or visitations, or waking dreams or - you decide. One thing they are NOT is crazy. They're not even unusual manifestations.
They're so usual that someone like myself, who spends a fair amount of time being with elders who are dying, or going to get there, are familiar with the phenomenon. Ask any hospice nurses - they'll tell you the same.
Now I don't really even try to define what the phenomenon is, because how would I know - other than that these are normal around-dying events. People are very comforted by these visits.
I have a dear friend of 92 who was seriously ill in hospital, from which she recovered - thank goodness. When she returned home, she told me her late husband had been sitting in the chair beside her bed the whole time.
So should I have called in the psych nurses? Told her doctor she was crazy? Phoned for the exorcist to drop round to her house? Of course not. If you spend time with the dying, you'll find they often have these experiences and are happy to share them. I'm happy to hear about them I'm happy they still feel so in touch with those who loved them. I happy to hear that the continuing spirits of those who have left their bodies come to help and comfort the living who may soon join them.
I neither believe nor disbelieve in their experiences. I don't have to, because they're not my experiences and furthermore, they are clearly helpful, spiritually uplifting and loving experiences, so what the heck?
  I'm always amazed that people who purport to be practicing Christians, a religion in which life after death is a big feature, get bent out of shape by accounts of these experiences.
And they do. They get upset, they want Mom medicated out of her visitations - weird huh? It's as if they just can't handle that there may actually be life after death. Me> I'm cool with people's accounts of their experiences.
  There's hardly a culture or religion in the whole world not familiar with such accounts visitations, experiences. But in the USA, oh my! Actually, in my experiences of talking with a lot of Americans about a lot of personal lives, I find that these around-death experiences probably touch about 70 percent of everyone. They're just afraid to talk about them in case we think they're nuts. Isn't that sad?
  So, my dears, if Mom tells you Grandma and Grandpa came to see her - and you know they've been dead for 50 years - don't be spooked. Just smile and nod and be glad that her heart, her mind, her spirit, the drugs or your grandparents, are supporting at a time of greatest need for such visits.

Once again, I ask you to scroll on my page and you will see dates. Go back and read when I first started documenting these visits. I kept all this to myself for over 30 years for fear of prosecution and being labeled a 'crazy'. You will find some startling stories and you be the judge.  Thanks               theblogmeister