Doo and Tony


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What Could Possibly Be Wrong?
November 1980~~~~~~~~~

WHAT A CHRISTMAS AND NEW YEAR WE HAD THIS YEAR!

It all started with this horrible pain and excessive bleeding. After the bleeding kept up on and off for a few weeks and the pain never went away, my sister took me to the hospital.

I was checked over and told I had disfunctional uterine bleeding. I tried to find out why I was in so much pain, but never really got an answer.

December 1980~~~~~~~~~

Another 2 weeks, and Christmas went by and I went tobogganing with my husband and neice. It was so much fun, but boy, was I ever hurting. On the way home, every bump in the road brought on so much pain I was crying. We all decided I should probably go back to the hospital and try again to find out what was wrong.

I was at the hospital for over 12 hours and saw at least 6 different doctors before the decision was made to admit me for exploratory surgery. At this point no one knew what was wrong.

I was admitted on December 29, 1980 at 9:30 PM, and they put me on an IV and hoped to be able to do surgery by midnight. I was taken into the operating room at 12:30 AM December 30, 1980.

My husband and my mother waited and waited.......................and waited but got no word on what was going on. After almost 7 hours they went and asked where I was.



Meanwhile, back to me...... The last thing I remembered was going to sleep in the operating room. Now, I was coming to on and off but was in so much pain I was trying not to wake up. However, my mouth was so dry that I could not swallow and could hardly breathe. So when I would come to, I tried to move something or cry out to alert someone.....but no one came.

Finally, I heard talking. I couldn't see much, but I did hear talking and realized it was a couple of nurses talking about their past weekend. It was like I wasn't even there.

I kept trying to move my hand to get their attention and trying to look at my hand to see if it was moving. (little did I know that they had given me Curare, which immobilizes you, and that is why it was so hard for me to move.)

After what seemed to me like hours, one of the nurses noticed me move my fingers. She screamed "?!#@?#!" and ran in some swinging doors which I didn't see until they were rushing me out of where I was. The nurse ran over and tried to talk to me but I couldn't talk. She wet a towel and put it to my mouth, which is what I needed and wanted. Then I wanted to go back to sleep. But she wouldn't let me. She kept screaming my name and then more people came with a gurney and a gown, (I had been on an embalming table, naked, with my knees up and a big block under my head).

They dressed me and moved me to the gurney and into an elevator and to a room so fast my head was spinning. Thank God, I was mostly out of it. My husband and mother were immediately at my side.

What had my family been told when they asked where I was after hours of surgery? Well, just so happens that when they asked about me, it was at almost the exact second that I was being discovered alive in the MORGUE!

The desk nurse told them to wait and she would check. Then she came back and told them that I had made it out of surgery but there had been no room in recovery and so I had been put downstairs near the morgue, but that I was being put into a room now.

I finally figured out why it happened though. Check it out! The anethesiologist that had been on duty when I went into surgery a little after midnight went home at 6:00 AM, so the one who checked me immediately after surgery didn't know or wasn't told, or didn't check the chart or whatever, but didn't realize that I had been given Curare in addition to whatever meds were used to sedate me for surgery. Therefore, when my pupils did not respond, he assumed I was dead. Weird!!

Want to know what my problem had been? I had an ectopic (tubal) pregnancy and the hospital had not had one and no one recognized it at that time. What they were going to do when they took me to surgery was just a D and C, and that was the purpose of the Curare, I was told. However, I had been 3 months along in that tube and in doing the D and C the tube burst inside me. When the anesthesiologist saw my eyeslashes fluttering he realized something really wrong must have happened for me to be able to move anything. It hurt so bad when that happened that I was trying to move my hand, and my eyes were moving trying to see if my hand was moving and if so, why were they ignoring me when I hurt so bad! They then put me to sleep and went in to see what had happened. That is why the surgery took so long. Oh....there's more.........Later.


Remember the toboganing? So easily, I could have burst the tube inside me that the baby was growing in. The doctors said it was the size of a man's fist, and it didn't take much to burst it during the D&C. So, such was my experience with being in the morgue before my time.

And I do have something to say as to near-death experiences. I never believed in them before, but while I was going in and out of conciousnes, I am pretty certain that the afterlife was hovering.

At that time, I didn't have anyone close to me that had died, so there were no people waiting for me or anything like that. But, there was the most beautiful music coming from the most beautiful yet brightest light I ever saw, and never could have looked at for real. The thing was, I wasn't hearing the music, but feeling it, and the same with the light. It was like it wasn't a physical thing but a spiritual thing happening.

I was very drawn to whatever it was and did want to continue toward it. However, once those nurses realized I was alive, I was not left alone and was jerked away from whatever that beautiful place might have been.




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