These NDE accounts were submitted to our website and are published here anonymously. Minor edits have been made to protect the identity of the experiencer and others who may have been involved with the experience. Note to researchers and authors: IANDS cannot grant permission to publish quotations from these NDE accounts because we have not received permission from the NDE authors to do so. However, we advise authors who wish to use quotations from these accounts to follow the Fair Use Doctrine. See our Copyright Policy for more information. We recommend adopting this practice for quotations from our web site before you have written your book or article.
I was 17 years old when I met my emotionally abusive boyfriend. He had a profound effect on me that lasts to this day, over 30 years later. Over the course of a year, he convinced me to join him in a suicide pact, claiming that we were "better" than the rest of society and deserved to be "somewhere else." He was a drug addict and because of the mental hold that he had over me and the desire to be high with him, I abandoned my family and friends. It was such a pivotal time in my young life and I have always fantasized about never having met him, wishing that I could’ve kept the precious friends that I had and never killed the relationship with my parents, as I was an only child.
As a young girl of 10, I became ill with strep throat and pneumonia, with a relentless high fever. I had been very sick for a couple of weeks with an increasingly sore throat, cold-like symptoms, coughing, and mounting breathing difficulty. (I had always had breathing problems and after this was formally diagnosed with asthma.) I eventually became unresponsive and was taken to hospital. There, during medical assessment, I was first stripped of all clothing and was wrapped in cold, wet sheets in an attempt to alleviate my soaring temperature. After diagnosing me, they gave me an injection of penicillin, to which I had an allergic reaction, resulting in an “anaphylactic shock-induced death.”
In the Spring of 2020, I had kidney stones. I had never had kidney stones before and tried for 2 days to pass them. I was in severe pain and, after my efforts were unsuccessful, my husband took me to the Emergency Room. Because our area was under COVID-19 quarantine, he had to leave me in the ER by myself. It was about 1 am.
I was given Fentanyl for the pain.
The clock in the room was broken - stuck at 4:00 and my phone was in my purse, so I could not keep track of the time.
As the night continued, the nurses gave me more and more Fentanyl. The pain was never far behind. I had an MRI that revealed a stone in my kidney and a stone in my bladder.
Date of accident: 4-20-1980
Back story: Working at Forest Service, on a survey crew at the time.
Religious thoughts at the time: I would have told you I was an atheist the day before the accident, as a result of my step-father trying to force me into Catholicism; I had come to the conclusion that religion was nothing but a control mechanism - still think so today.
I have waited 74 days to actually put my experience to paper. Those I told right after it happened told me to write it down, but I still found myself unable to do so. When I question myself on why I haven't written it down or shared it with more people, thoughts of doubt come to my mind: I think people won’t believe me, they will say it was the anesthesia, they will treat me differently and may even shrug it off. As real as these thoughts are, what is more real is what I experienced. All I hope to share is encouragement to anyone who reads this, in knowing that there is life after death. There is something better, bigger and more beautiful. It is something unexplainable and using human words seems so feeble. However, I will attempt to share in words, as that is all I have.
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