April 3rd 2016 was the first day after my death, if you want to know how I died click Here.
This is the story of my life after death.
Day one in the hospital started with me finally realizing what happened and where I was, both my arms had ports in them for easy needle access, meaning I couldn’t really move and the few times I did move I was greeted with a sharp pain in my arm as the ports dug deeper this made eating a rather tricky ordeal. I spent most of that day sleeping and making rather tasteless jokes about death, the nurses seemed to like them if for no other reason then it was a nice change of pace when working the ER.
Shortly after 11am my family started to arrive, now that my grandfather was here I was finally able to ask what had happened that night, all I could remember was shitting my pants and waking up in hospital. According to my grandfather shortly after I shit myself I started to scream “help” and “I don’t want to die” I then started to violently shake and throw my arms and legs about, at one point I even punched him in the face, this didn’t last long. I finally stopped moving, stopped screaming and stopped breathing. My grandfather was still on the phone with the operator and started to provide CPR, it took some time for the ambulance to arrive but once they arrived they turned the front room into a mini emergency room and started to work on my, seeing as I had called 000 twice a second ambulance showed up shortly after and both teams went to work, it took them some time to bring me back, finally they managed to get me back and before I had a chance to slip away yet again they placed me in a medically induced coma all that was left for them to do was place me in the ambulance and take me to hospital, this would be harder than it seemed. They had placed me on a board but seeing as I was dead weight they had a hard time picking me up, two paramedic teams and they still couldn’t lift me, I realize I have let myself go but really this is just insulting. The paramedics unable to carry me had to simply drag the board to the ambulance and them heave my fat half dead ass up and into the ambulance, while I am thankful that they managed to help keep me alive I can’t help but think they really need to hit the gym a little bit more, work on some dead lifts and maybe improve that squat power.
After loading me in on went the sirens and off went the first ambulance, the second ambulance stayed behind to help my grandfather get whatever he needed and brought him to the hospital. While in the ambulance my grandfather asked one of the paramedics “be honest, how’s he going to be” the driver took some time before finally turning to him and saying “it doesn’t look good” once he arrived at the hospital all he could do was call the rest of the family and wait.
I was surprised to hear how violent it had been, I had imagined I must have simply collapsed and died and never thought I had died in such a violent manner. The few hours spent with my family were nice we simply talked about nonsense and made jokes about how bad I looked. They left shortly after lunch and I fell back asleep, when I woke up it was now night and the nurses had changed over, I now had a new audience for my bad jokes.
The new nurses were nice but they all seemed rather fascinated by my eyes, everyone kept asking me how my eyes were feeling. I didn’t understand why they kept but was too tired to ask, it wasn’t until an eye specialist showed up that I started to wonder what was going on, as he examined my eyes I asked him what was going on and why everyone kept asking about them, he told me they were red and handed me a mirror. “HOLY SHIT!” I said as I started at my reflection, red was an understatement my eyes were almost black and my face was bruised. According to the specialist when I died the all the blood vessels in my eyes popped and while it looked rather bad my eyes were alright they just needed time to heal up, just like any other kind of bruise.
I rather liked how my eyes looked, being a monster and horror movie fan my new look was rather refreshing not to mention allowed for even more bad jokes.
As the specialist left and I was ready to go back to sleep, as I tried to get into a comfortable sleeping position I felt a cable or tube I hadn’t noticed before, it was around my leg. This confused me so I decided to investigate this unknown tube further, when I learned I had died I was fascinated, when I saw my eyes I laughed but when I saw where this tube went I was horrified and glad that I was unconscious when they, put it in me but worried about when it had to come out. I went to sleep that night in a slight panic.
After three days in the ER I was able to leave and was able to get my own room, nice window view and all. Before I could be transferred the nurses and doctors need to prep me which meant removing the catheter, giving me a new port and letting me shower. A new port and shower I can handle but I was worried about the catheter, to my surprise removing the catheter wasn’t painful at all just awkward, if anything it was all the tape they had to take off of my arms that truly hurt. Clean, fresh and able to piss on my own again they moved me to my new room where I would spend the next two days watching the same movies over and over again while doing yoga in nothing but a hospital gown in front of a rather large window facing the main road.
I died and five days later I was able to leave the hospital, I was lucky. Asthma is a bitch in 2015 alone, it caused the deaths of 421 Australians.
I was really lucky.
I’m still not scared of death, at least not my own but I have changed, this past year has been an interesting one. I’m not sure what’s going to happen now but either way, what’s the worst that could happen, I already died.
Until Next Time, Stay Safe and Keep Odd.