(Continued from Crossing Over: Encompassed by Love)
April 3, 2013, 15 minutes later, Victoria Hospital, Prince Albert, Saskatchewan.
I awaken with a jolt. I feel like someone has dropped me from about six inches above the mattress.
I catch my breath; my heart is racing. I am in a hospital bed in ICU; this is Day 5 of my recovery from surgery. I lay here in shock, fully knowing where I have just been. I start to panic, thinking, what if it’s my time to die? I can’t tell anyone about what has just happened because I’m thinking they won’t discharge me; they’ll believe I’m delusional, or hallucinating. But I’m not losing it; the only medication I’m still on is an anti-biotic and I know for sure it wouldn’t have these types of side effects.
I also know without a doubt that I have witnessed a glimpse of heaven, plus I know that what I just encountered was incredibly holy. It’s exactly where I want to go when I pass on. So if it my time to die I just need to go home to our farm. I don’t want to die in a hospital bed without my family being present–I have so many things I’ve left unsaid. I’m an emotional wreck because I love what I have just been shown, but I also love my life here.
I’m torn between this life and the next. I feel that even if I’m not yet entirely well, I need to be at home. I must go home today in order to heal or die.
I grab my phone and head to the bathroom; I’m scared to death about my destiny. I need to call my husband; he’s the only person I trust right now. I definitely don’t want my roommate or the nursing staff to hear this conversation. I dial Trent’s number and he picks up quickly. I ask him if he’s alone and I tell him I need his full attention. He’s been cleaning grain for some clients over the past few months and it’s sometimes hard to get him alone. He hears the desperation in my voice and within seconds I notice the noise from the cleaning plant in the background fading. I explain to him what has just happened to me and share many of the details. He then asks me if I’m feeling sick again, and I say that I’m the same as I’ve been for the last five days; I haven’t noticed any change.
There’s seriousness to his voice, he’s feeling my pain and anguish. He tells me that he can head to Prince Albert immediately, but I tell him to wait until I find out if I’m being discharged. He tells me that our daughter Branelle is on her way to see me as we speak. I’m crying softly and he tells me that he loves me. I’m almost speechless, my heart is breaking. Trent then suggests that he call a priest–he’s worried about my possible untimely death, and he knows that I’d want to receive last rights. I say, no, I will just wait to see what happens over the next hour or so. There’s softness in his voice and I know that he’s wishing he was right beside me now. He promises me that if I don’t get discharged he will sit with me through the night. We share our love for each other one last time, then hang up.
That’s what love does; it never fails and always hopes, it’s with you right up until death. Trent knows that what I encountered was real, and he plans on helping me through whatever lies ahead. I sit down in the bathroom for a few more minutes and let the tears fall. I’m so thankful to have had this man in my life and I will keep praying that we will still have more time together. I couldn’t have asked for a better or more loving life partner.
The near death experience was about to change the course of our lives. Little did we know that my heavenly encounter was just the beginning of a much bigger story that was still to come in the days ahead.
Ask, listen and be watchful