A Heart Stopping Rebirth

The calm and surreal darkness enveloped me, as I eased into the tender embrace. I felt at peace as I was lulled by the silent void as I reflected on the moments leading to my slumber. It began with the abrupt disturbance, as the weekly fit of diarrhea and vomit session overcame my dreams- jolting me from the much-needed sound slumber. It had been three months since I was first plagued with the anomaly that was now considered the new norm. It never gave me the courtesy of daytime visits – no, that would have been too courteous and convenient. Every week like clockwork, right as my REM sleep was about to kick in, the terrible twosome made their malicious intents known; coupled with the three-month chest and left arm pain that I had chalked up as stress- I knew it was going to be a long night as I ran to the sanctuary of the bathroom.

With trash can in front and my can on the can- I evacuated the demons that was clawing their way through my intestines in both directions. Once the exorcism was complete, I returned to my room and sat in the darkness. With my feet dangling from the side of my bed, I contemplated laying back down, but a small voice whispered,

“Something isn’t right.”

I shrugged it off and answered aloud,

“I don’t have time for this- I got to get to bed so I can go to work. I can’t afford to miss no money.” I reasoned with myself as I laid down. I snuggled into my favorite pillow, but the voice spoke again,

“Something isn’t right, you need to get yourself checked out.” It said a little louder.

In that moment, I felt a sharp pain in my jaw reminiscent of a toothache... that caught my attention. Heart problems was a familiar nuisance to my family; my birth mother had her first massive one at twenty-five. But fourteen years had passed, and I was thirty-nine; so, I figured I had the fortune of not being plagued with it’s curse. I had a stressful job, so I knew that would cause chest tightening and arm pain-I was downright used to it after the first month. The other inconvenient issues, I reasoned was one of the side effects of my once weekly insulin causing the diarrhea. Coupled with the fibroids that were pressing against my intestines – the forceful urge was making me nauseous, causing the need to exit both ways simultaneously. But the jaw pain was unexplainable, it had been over a year since my last dental emergency, and I knew that my mouth usually gave me a warning. No, out of all heart attack symptoms, this checked box concerned me. Even with the life-threatening realization, the single mom in me nagged,

“You can’t afford to miss money. Sleep it off and you will feel better in the morning.” The small voice then offered its two cents,

“You can’t make money if you’re dead.” That matter-of-fact statement shot me upright as I stared wide eyed in the darkness. I replied aloud,

“But what if it’s nothing, and I miss out on my money? I can’t afford to take the day off. I have bills to pay and kids to feed.”

“And what if it is something? Do you want to take the risk knowing that you can die in this room and your children find you? Is that the final memory that you want them to have of you?” The now clear voice asked sternly.

“No” I thought sadly.

“Then get some help right now, before it's too late.” The voice screamed. At this point my anxiety amplified the pain, making my voice barely audible.

“If someone can hear me, I need help. Please help me if you can hear me.” I pleaded through a strained voice from the other side of the apartment to my children. My prayer for help was answered by my youngest son who ran to my aid. He flipped the light switch, and I could see the concern in his eyes.

“Get Taylor,” I whispered.

Shaun dashed down the hall and flung open the door and startled the hard sleeping eldest. Within moments, both teens were in my room.

“I think I might be having a heart attack, call one of your aunties.” I said slowly. Taylor examined my appearance and stated,

“Nah mom you need an ambulance, I’m calling 9-1-1.” My eldest stated as the number was being dialed. The single mom in me quipped,

“I don’t want to pay that ambulance bill,” I wailed as the operator picked up the line. With a calm demeanor, Taylor gave the operator the appropriate information, while Shaun assisted with retrieving my purse and phone charger.

Minutes later the rescue personnel knocked at the front door and rushed in to attend to me. The kind heroes asked if I could walk to the gurney with their assistance, and I nodded as I was lifted to my feet. As I was being wheeled to the ambulance, I noticed that the usually busy and crime riddled apartment complex was quiet- not even one of the many stray cats could be seen or heard. I let out a sigh of relief knowing that no one would know what had happened- there would be no outside knowledge that my kids would be alone.

In the back of the vehicle, the paramedics ran tests that were available to the emergency room doctors by the time we made it there. The doctor looked at the squiggled lines and his expression told me all I needed to know.

“Okay everyone, this is the real thing- she needs to go up now.” The elderly gentleman stated firmly.

“Mrs. Cummings, you are having a heart attack….” He started; the rest of his words blurred as I robotically answered questions automatically.

I didn’t hear anything after that statement, I just let my brain take over on auto pilot. The hospital staff rushed me to the operating room as they explained that my one of my arteries was one hundred percent blocked and they needed to operate immediately. I nodded in understanding, still in shock that it was the real thing- hardly believing that this was happening to me.

Secure on the table, the doctors quickly and skillfully prepared to save my life. A sharp pain radiated through my leg from the shot that was administered to my leg to numb it, so a stent could be inserted to open the occluded artery. I looked at the clock, it was 12:30 in the morning. I turned my head and looked at the screen where I saw a foreign map of veins and arteries as the scope explored my body. While the doctors expertly tended to my situation, I began to feel drowsy. I closed my eyes, knowing that I was in good hands.

I slowly went down the rabbit hole into the darkness as I was comforted by what I felt was a restful sleep. I floated in the darkness until my eyes popped open and saw that it was a quarter to four in the morning. I thought to myself,

“Was I really sleeping that long?” I wondered, as my eyes surveyed the room. One of the nurses looked at me and called to one of the doctors.

“She’s awake doctor.” She said with a deep sigh of relief. The doctor came to my side and touched my hand and smiled warmly,

“We almost lost you there Mrs. Cummings. It took us awhile to bring you back. If you would have waited any longer, we would have lost you.” The gentleman stated. I felt my brow furrow in question.

“What do you mean?” I asked weakly.

“You coded.” He replied. His statement only offered my brain more questions. Even though I knew full well what “coding” meant, my brain was not grasping the entire gravity of the situation.

“Meaning?” I asked in anticipation of an answer that I already knew.

“You died.” The doctor stated firmly.

During those days of recovery, the severity of my near demise remained encased in delusion. The realization of the now twenty-nine percent heart function was just a fact that had not processed- my only thought was the darkness. If I had died, why had I not seen a light? Where was my loved ones that was supposed to collect me to guide me to the ever after? What had I done that voided my opportunity to the eternal sunshine?

Until that moment, I had never considered myself to be a bad person; I always that I was a kind, loving and considerate human being, even when others were unkind to me. So, I questioned my morality based on my near-death experience that did not mimic the ones you hear about in movies or read in books.

Two weeks later I was discharged and when I got home, I was talking with my God- given sister Hana who had come to visit.

“I don’t get it- if I died why didn’t I see the light? All I saw was a dark void. It wasn’t menacing, but still it was nothing. Is that what happens when you truly die?” I lamented. My sister took my hand and smiled.

“Sis, it wasn’t your time to go. You still have so much to do and if you would have seen the light, you know you would have gone toward it and you wouldn’t still be here to fulfill what’s still meant for you. The darkness you were in was like the womb, and when your eyes opened you were reborn.”