In honor of Lv99Ron, I've decided to write a blog about my own near death experience. It wasn't nearly as painful or tragic, and not nearly as happy, but I figure why not share, and empathize? My Hand Was Numb
My hand was numb again last night. I was looking through the tinted windows of my friendís car, while all the blurry lights were coming around like stars. I was thinking about the time I was hospitalized after passing out in one of my high school classes.
It all started with my right hand. I was writing equations, which is always a challenge, but that day was something different. My actions felt delayed, as if my hand was receiving signals far too late for its own good. The hand was turning into white noise, so I had to stop. I began to wonder- wonder if any one was looking at me, or if my teacher was eying my now lazy hand.
I was beginning to grow paranoid. My hand wouldn't feel anymore. It was gone. Not only had my hand died, but blood started to rush to my temples. The pain was hard to bear, and a loss of breath was starting to creep up. The only thing I could do was raise my left hand.
"Yes? Why are you interrupting the class?"
"I have t% ^% ^&*side"
Not only had my hand flopped down on the table like a dying fish, but the right side of my mouth went numb as well. "What the hell was going on?"
She somehow understood, and I pushed myself toward the outside door.
Students were having lunch at the time, so I must have looked pretty strange. I was gasping for air, and as I was, I knelt down on the ground. My vision was about to leave me too.
"Hey, what's up? Are you ok?"
I looked up and saw outlines of two small blonde girls. I don't really think they cared as to the status of my body, but I am one to please.
"I'm fine. I just wanted some fresh air...get out of *&^*&(& *&lass.." My mouth was still numb.
"Oh..OK! Hope you feel better."
"Thanks kid. I hope I do to"
I guess hoping doesn't do too much. I got worse. It wasn't until the bell rang did I wander back inside. I don't believe my teacher knew I was still back there...not her fault though, I could have sworn that I had faded out of existence for a moment.
"I think you need to call the office."
She didn't say much. Her mouth just kind of dropped, her eyes stared. I must have been a ghost. She called the office, and I was asked to sit on a stool. I don't believe sitting is a hard task, but when your body becomes transparent, you begin to worry about falling through chairs.
The next thing I knew, suits starting marching through the door. It was the principal and one of the assistant principals. The three figures, which now seemed like trees, started to ask me questions.
"Whatís your name? Address? Number? Parents name!? What day is it? Can you hear us?"
I could hear them, but I couldn't respond. The lights were on, but no one was home. I recall one of them picked up a walkie talkie out of thin air.
"Would someone up there call the ambulance?"
They had their own ambulance? I guess when youíre the only high school around for miles, you have some superiority...or maybe I was just fading out. It all went down hill from there. The responders came and tried pricking me with needles. When your feeling as if youíre about to die, the last thing you wish to hear is this:
" We can't find his vessels. We're going to have to take him to the hospital. His blood pressure is low. You'll be alright, kid."
1-2-3. I was laying on the rolling table, and on my way to the big house. Or so I thought. They pricked me about four times before they got some sort of fluid out of me. I should have suggested the look around my ears. I was cracking jokes that were as weak as I was. The small talk on the way to the hospital is the best conversation in existence. They stuck air up my nose, and as soon as they did, my eyes got real heavy.
When I got to the hospital, my demon of a stepmother was there. She just so happened to be working there at the time. She directed the men to put me close to the ER waiting table. Honestly, I didn't know where I was, nor cared. Apathy for the ghost boy.
I'm not sure what went on for the last few hours of the day. I took some pills that were supposed to calm my ailment, but I only started to throw up. It seemed as if it were forcing itself out of me. There was no need for waste in my translucent body! I did something, however, that seemed nearly impossible- I grabbed my stepmothers hand. I didn't look in her eyes, for I had a blue scrub to look at. I would never look into her eyes. That would mean to lose a battle I was fighting with her. It was business.
After a while, some nurses rushed me to a room what was particularly small. Some huge mechanical monster was lying next to me. I was sure that my step mother had set me up to my death, but nothing happened. My father came, which was the sign of all of this coming to an end, but it didn't end for another hour. Or maybe days. Months. I was so out of time and place. It could have been years. Another nurse came to give me a shot. It was hot liquid that crawled through my entire body. I was human again.
When I came to, my father pointed me to a wheelchair. He's a smart man. He strolled me over to the bathroom, after I mumbled something about it. I went in. I stared down into the wet murkiness. I came back out. My father had to get our truck, so I was just sitting at the entrance in the wheelchair. I felt human again, but any attempt to prove it was in vain. I had to ride home that night on bumpy roads and apathetic clouds.
To all those who know me, you should know the rest. I was visited by three, though they reminded me of the spirits of Christmas more then anything at the time. I didn't get up for who knows how long. There was no liquid in me. I was a man, but a mummy. I thank the spirits for bringing me Popsicles.
I don't know what I suffered from. And I don't care to know. I made it through in one piece. But from time to time, my hand will go numb, and I'll remember every possible detail that I can of that day. That's when the numbness disappears and I'm left with a story like this.
LOOK WHO CAME: