The beds of my finger and toenails were slowly turning blue from lack of oxygen in the body. My demeanor was bordering on irritation as I tried hard to catch up with the conversation in the room. My wife and children were there. They all looked gloomy but tried hard to be cheerful. They were evidently told to expect the worst as my condition was pretty bad.

My daughter even asked me to draw something using her pastel crayons. The colors and the painting bothered me. I just could not control the feeling that I had to stop. My son tried to crack some jokes but I simply could not follow. My sisters were also there and my brother I was told was on the way.

Time passed. I was still lying on the hospital bed and the lighting appeared so dismal. A few days earlier, I went to the hospital for a check up and was told that I had to be confined immediately. CT Scan results revealed a large aneurism in my Circle of Wheelis, that part of the brain controlling the breathing reflex. This was my third stroke and coupled with severe apnea, diabetes and essential hypertension – an explosive concoction of death.

I had difficulty talking. A small notepad served as my vehicle to communicate. When asked whom I wish to inform about my condition, I wrote down the name of my closest friends.

Time stops. I feel people trying to feed me with sugar and hands propping me up my bed. Stop frame! From a very limited vision as if underwater, I noticed my hands tied to the side of the bed railings. I gestured to my wife and wrote down asking her to kindly untie the bonds. Again, I must have lasped into unconsciousness. .

A dream …

An old lady, who was not that ancient, beckoned to me. Fast come into the circle! Follow Me! I did not heed her at once and just looked around. Faster, we have no time, you must come inside the circle before it’s too late! I followed her and breached the barrier, crossed the invisible boundary.

Sudden crystal clear alertness hits me like a wall. My mouth is filled with some sort of a plastic hose. I was told that I was intubated (a plastic hose was inserted in my mouth up to the lungs and connected into a machine, some sort of a suction. Up my nostrils were the oxygen hoses.

I saw from my bed my close friends, their faces very sad and controlling hidden emotions, conferring with others. I also saw a bunch of white roses, I was later told was not allowed into the room, being handed to an orderly. Slowly they sat on a padded bench in front of my bed. Silently they watched me. Silently without a word spoken, I bid my wife, my kids, my brother, sisters and friends goodbye. Tears started to flow unabated, They were wiped off tenderly. I whispered to my wife sorry for all the heartaches I caused and that I did not mean them to be such.

A priest arrives and gives me extreme unction.

I was told that it took six husky orderlies to hold and control me while the plastic tubing was being inserted in my mouth. Evidently, my body resented the invasion and fought it. I was not even aware that this took place. One of my friends tried to explain to the orderlies I was into martial arts that’s why they had a difficult time subduing me even in my unconscious state..

My family and my sisters started crying as I fought the procedure. To them it was a paroxysmal dance of doom as I struggled to hang on to life.

I closed my eyes. I awake to the feeling of motion. I notice the gypsum panel boards on the ceiling. I notice each and every crack. A whisper…”you are being wheeled to the Intensive Care Unit.” I lapse into darkness.

I feel a thin plastic hose inserted through my nose into my esophagus. Daily, I was fed a liquid diet through this. My right thumb was attached to a beeping device which monitored my oxygenation. Another tube was also inserted to drain urine. Very irritating but it accorded me the comfort of not having to stand up and go. I also had an IV attachment on me.

I again close my eyes. I wake up to find a number of friends perform reiki on me. This calmed me. Somehow I could feel my congested lungs drain itself. I sleep soundly.

I continue to close my eyes and slowly take deep breaths. In my mind, I willed my body to heal itself with every breath. The doctor, I was told, conferred with my wife that it was a bad sign for me to be asleep for a number of days.

I see my mother watching over me, My brother visits me and lays a hand over my head. In prayer and in tears he pleads for help for the brother he grew up with and shared many happy moments.

Many visitors during my waking moments came and I notice their straight faces and forced smiles as they walk away. Probably thinking that they are far enough I see a shake of the head. Even they believe that I would not make it.

Days passed, I was told by a friend that many of my neighbors in the other ICU rooms already died. Again I closed my eyes, slept and tried to urge my body to heal itself.

I waken to a bright day as one of my friends starts making funny faces outside the ICU while looking through the glass partition. I manage a crooked smile. The day just seems to be so bright, so cheerful. The doctor comes in and declares that the next day my intubation will be removed at last. I asked her one thing. She stopped to listen.

To the surprise of all present I wrote if I could have a can of diet soda after the procedure. The doctor laughed and said “By all means!” The next day all tubings attached to me were removed. My voice was hoarse and I was advised not to talk yet and just rest. I also did get to enjoy my first cold can of soda.

I recount all these things as a celebration of life. Through the years, I have abused my health but I now value it and want to live life to its fullest.

Looking back …

I sat on my bed, this time in one of the private rooms of the hospital and remembered the day I died … and the dream… “Come into the circle while there is still time!”