This is what happens when you die, according to a bunch of different people who died

Many of their accounts align with a recent scientific study into the subject

Many respondents described have no vital signs, yet being able to ‘see’ what was going on

By Adam Withnall

What happens to us when we die? It’s a question that has exercised humanity’s finest minds since those humans have been around to have them – and has been recently the subject of a number of groundbreaking scientific studies.

Now, a Reddit thread has posed the question specifically to those who have been clinically dead and then revived, and has received hundreds of responses.

Though the veracity of the answers has to be taken with a small pinch of salt, the answers from what essentially amounts to a large survey on the subject can be broken down into three categories.

There are those who felt nothing at all; those who had an experience of light and some interaction with another person/being; and those who felt they could watch what was happening while they were “dead” without being able to do anything.

The first group corresponds closely with the answers of a single Redditor who officially died twice and recently invited questions on the topic from other users.

The latter group, meanwhile, appears to agree with the work of Dr Sam Parnia, who sought out cardiac arrest patients and found that almost 40 per cent described having some form of “awareness” at a time when they were clinically dead.

Here is a taster of some of the Reddit users’ responses – which don’t seem to have produced a consensus on the topic just yet:

“I was getting an angiogram done, wide awake watching the screen and talking to the doctor. Alarms started to go off and everyone became panicked. My world became soft and foggy and everything faded to black. Next thing I remember was opening my eyes and hearing a Dr say “we got him back”. It was really a peaceful feeling more than anything.”

“I collapsed during a class presentation one day. All breathing and blood circulation stopped. I felt as if I was plummeting down an endless hole while my peers cried for help. I was revived and still have no memory of the little bit of time before and after my death.”

“Overdosed on heroin, EMTs said my heart stopped. Didn’t see anything, just like sleeping with no dreams.”

“I collapsed at a work meeting in February 2014 and had no pulse or cardiac rhythm for about five minutes. My last memory was from about an hour prior to the incident, and my next memory was from two days later, when I emerged from a medically-induced coma.”

“I flatlined for around 40 seconds. It was like falling asleep without dreaming, no sense of self.”

“Pure, perfect, uninterrupted sleep, no dreams.”

“I do remember a little bit of the ambulance ride, but not from my own body. It was seriously the strangest thing I have ever experienced. It could have been a dream, but I saw my own unconscious body, completely flatlined, in the ambulance. I remember the EMT who was in the ambulance with me (whom I did not see before I passed out) had mint green hair and I couldn’t remember his name, but I asked for him when I regained consciousness about three days later.”

“I was standing in front of a giant wall of light. It stretched up, down, left and right as far as I could see. Kind of like putting your eyes 6″ from a fluorescent lightbulb. The next memory I have is waking up in the hospital.”

“I was standing somewhere. There was a fog all around me, and I saw my best friend (who at the time I’d been fighting with and he’d stopped talking to me) come out of the mist. He told me that I couldn’t go yet, that I have to keep trying, and if I promised not to give up, he’d see me back on Earth. I wordlessly agreed, and I was instantly pushed (into?) my body.”

“I see a vivid “flashback” of myself in the ambulance being taken to the hospital and I am stood in the ambulance looking down on myself / others in the ambulance.”

“When I coded, I don’t remember a sensation of floating, but I was able to recall things in detail that happened while I was ‘dead’ on the other side of the room. No white lights, no dead relatives, nobody telling me to go back, but I was definitely able to see things that were in no way visible from where my body was. I remember speaking and being angry because nobody would answer me. My mother told me ‘you didn’t say anything, you were dead’.”

“I saw nothingness. Black, long empty, but I had a feeling like everything was great and nothing was wrong at all. Imagine how preexistence felt, much the same as post existence.”

Complete Article HERE!

Five ways to prepare young children to visit a loved one who is dying

by Jessica F. Hinton

Death and dying can be scary and uncomfortable subjects, so parents understandably may shy away from them and wonder if it’s a good idea to take their children to visit a relative or loved one in the hospital or a hospice facility. I wrestled with this when my grandmother was dying and ultimately chose to take my children to visit her in the hospital in her final days. I don’t regret that choice, because it gave the kids a chance to get to know her and also helped them start to understand that death is a normal part of life.

Kayce Hodos, a licensed professional counselor in North Carolina who specializes in grief and loss, says that while death and dying are difficult, they don’t need to be scary. Hodos likens the lessons a child can learn from a parent’s honest and transparent handling of death and dying to gifts. She says these children are better able to deal with loss and stress, and have a better perspective on the normal cycle of life and death. Visits to see a dying loved one are a great way to introduce these valuable lessons.

Along with teaching them about death, visits give children a chance to say goodbye and provide them with a sense of closure. They also support a familial culture of openness and honesty. Children whose parents include them in these experiences, says Amanda Thompson, a pediatric psychologist at Children’s National Health System, are more likely to feel safe and secure even in the face of a scary and anxiety-provoking event such as an impending death. The message communicated in these families, Thompson says, is: “We face the hard stuff together. We can talk about these things. And we’re here for each other no matter what.”

If you want to visit a sick or dying loved one with children but are unsure of how to prepare them, Thompson and Hodos offer these suggestions.

Consider your goals. Before even asking your children if they want to join you, Hodos says, think about why you want to include them. “Perhaps it is to provide the child and the loved one an opportunity to express love and say goodbye,” Hodos says. Whatever your reasons, being clear on them will help guide how you talk to your child. If, for instance, your goal is to say goodbye, then you’ll focus on why you think saying goodbye matters. It can also help you feel more in command of a situation that you can’t control.

Ask them what they want. Talk to your children about what they are comfortable with, and allow them to say goodbye in a way that they works for them. Having children do in-person visits is a great option for many families, but it’s not the only option, Thompson says. They can also send a card, write a letter, draw a picture or record a video message.

Prepare children thoughtfully. Hospitals can feel like scary and unfamiliar places for adults, let alone children. Talking to your children before the visit, says Thompson, can help them feel a little less afraid. Explain that their loved one may not look the same as they remember. Talk to them about some of things they may see, such as changes in breathing and skin color, weight loss and things in the room, such as tubes and machines, that may seem frightening initially.

It’s also important to go over how long you plan to stay. Hodos recommends shorter visits, especially with younger children, and explaining to them, “We’re only going to stay for ‘x’ amount of time because Grandma needs her rest.” Go over any other hospital rules that you think they’ll need to know (such as leaving the room when hospital staff require it, washing hands and using quiet voices).

Consider hospital supports. Some hospitals have staff members, whether social workers, child life specialists or psychologists, who can talk to your child before, during and after their visit. They can help you with pre-visit preparation, such as explaining some of the things they may experience in the room. And during a visit, they can be a source of support and distraction for a child who is having a hard time coping or needs a break.

Be prepared for questions. Children ask lots of questions. Thompson says that while many parents think their children expect them to have all the answers, they really only need you to be honest. “If your child asks a difficult question, you can tell them, ‘That’s a difficult question, and different people have different beliefs about that. What do you think?’ ” she says. At the same time, it can be helpful to think through your answers for some of the more common questions so that, as Thompson says, “you feel less anxious in the moment and can offer your child honest explanations using simple, brief and concrete language that is appropriate for their age.” For me, being able to answer my children’s question about death and confronting my own questions made seeing my grandma in her last weeks all the more worth it.

In our visits with my grandma, we talked about the weather, read books, looked at pictures and did other things that helped us forget why we came. When we said goodbye at the end of our first visit, my daughters gave her a glittery stone with the word “love” on it. At the time, I thought it would be our last gift. But now, with memories of those visits and the journey we’ve taken with our talks on death and dying, I know there were many other gifts, for all of us.

Complete Article HERE!

What to Expect When Witnessing a Loved One’s Death

By ,

Nothing prepares you for being present at the death of a loved one. The emotional enormity of the experience and its relative rarity give survivors little frame of reference to draw from.

“The time of life we call dying is an extremely difficult part of the life cycle, but a normal part,” says palliative-care physician Ira Byock, author of Dying Well. “The nature of it isn’t medical, it’s experiential.”

The death experience unfolds differently in each situation. But those who have witnessed “the passing” observe the following:

The dying person may talk to people not in the room, or may see other places.

“A few hours before she died, my mother suddenly said, ‘No, I’m not Sarah [her mother’s name],’ but she didn’t say it to any of us in the room. Then she was telling Dad she loved him. It was like she was having two conversations at once. One of the last coherent things that she said was, ‘Are you the gentleman who’s come to meet me?'” — Michele, a North Carolina mother of four

Dying people often seem to be in two worlds at once: here and not here. They may talk to or gesture toward people who aren’t visible to others in the room. Or they may describe things or places they see, such as a garden, a favorite location, or lights.

These “deathbed visions,” as British neuropsychiatrist Peter Fenwick, a neuropsychiatrist and specialist in near-death experiences, calls them, almost always take place when the person is clearly conscious — even though witnesses sometimes mistake the visions and speech for signs of delirium. Some dying people switch easily between conversations with those at the bedside and with someone unseen. The people and places are usually connected with feelings of peace and security. In the U.S. and the U.K., nearly three-fourths of visions are of friends and relatives who aren’t living, says Fenwick, author of The Art of Dying. About 13 percent of people seen are religious figures, compared to 50 percent of people in India who see Hindu figures. Seeing strangers is relatively rare.

Dying may seem to involve great physical effort.

“My mom had a dry mouth and scary raspy breath that worsened over a few days. But she didn’t die until the day we gave her morphine. I felt responsible, wondering if we had rushed things.” — Emma, a 45-year-old artist in San Francisco.

“Some go gently — you look up and their chest is no longer moving,” palliative-care physician Byock says. “But for others it’s hard to die. It’s like an animal shedding its skin, a physical struggle to wriggle out of this life.”

Younger people and those who are healthy aside from a single fatal illness often have the most difficult time. But dying can be effortful for anyone. Palliative care — comfort care including pain relief — improves quality of life to life’s end. Unfortunately, say hospice workers, families are often reluctant to use painkillers out of a misguided fear that they curb awareness or hasten the death process.

Morphine dosages given in hospice are only enough to ease pain, Byock says. Even with good comfort care, certain reflexive symptoms of the dying process, such as labored breathing, can still appear as distress. Mental confusion is another common effect of the organs — in this case, the brain — shutting down. (See 10 Signs Death is Near).

The personality of the dying person usually stays consistent to the end.

“My mother never lost her sense of humor. I was complaining about my brother not coming to my daughter’s birthday party. ‘So shoot him!’ she said in her typically droll way. My mother’s last words to me were instructions to kill my brother!” — Dawn Barclay, a New York manager in her 40s, who saw her mom through 18 months of complications of heart surgery and stroke

People tend to die as they lived, says Maggie Callanan, a hospice nurse and the author of Final Gifts, who has witnessed more than 2,000 deaths. “Nice people get even nicer, manipulators manipulate, funny people die funny,” she explains. “We all have ways of navigating through life, and when dying, those tendencies are intensified by 10.”

More things you may witness at a loved one’s death

The dying person may speak in metaphors.

“On the day she died, my mom kept talking about traveling, like, ‘Let’s go, what are we waiting for . . . oh, there’s a plane ahead of us . . . no, that’s not the right plane.’ She also told my dad that he should take a later flight. She was definitely going someplace.” — Patricia Anderson, 45-year-old Ohio insurance account executive

“The dying often use symbolic language, especially to indicate an imminent change or a need to go forth — to die,” says hospice nurse Callanan. Travel is one of the more common themes, such as talking about modes of transportation or about going somewhere (making a flight, a golfer talking about going golfing).

The person may also allude to “making ready” (packing, making checklists, issuing directions). Some observers think that this talk of journey-making is a subconscious way dying people let family members know they know they’re passing away. It’s a signal for families to offer reassurance — that they, too, understand what’s happening and to convey that although they’re grieving, they’ll look after one another and be all right.

“The family’s reassurances that they’ll be all right often bring the peace a dying person needs,” Callanan says.

The dying person may seem to choose the final moment.

“The hospice people had told me that sometimes people won’t die when their loved ones are in the room, especially if the person has played a protective role in their lives. Or that they hang on if they feel you can’t let them go. So before I stepped out to get something to eat, I told my Dad that if he had to go it was OK, that he had done everything he could to raise us and we could raise ourselves now. Not seven minutes later, a nurse met me in the hall and said he was gone. I guess I felt a bit cheated because I wanted to witness this crossing over.” — Lise Funderburg, Philadelphia writer

Many people report feeling “cheated” or as if they “let down” a loved one by not being there at the moment of death. Others blame themselves as “failures” for inadvertently allowing the person they love to die alone. In many cases the survivor had stayed glued to the bedside for hours, determined to be there, turning away or stepping out for only an instant.

But those who work in hospice think it’s the other way around: Passing away often happens minutes after loved ones leave the bedside, as if the dying person is choosing to spare them the final moment. This is especially true, they say, with individuals toward whom the dying person feels protective.

Also common: The dying person seems to hang on to wait for someone to visit or something to be said. One South Carolina woman’s mother lingered in hospice for months until she received the news that her also-ill, adored younger sister had died. She died herself the next morning. “It was as if she wanted to spare her sister her own news,” her daughter said.

The dying person often seems peaceful at the end.

“She opened her eyes, and the house grew quiet. Her face softened and all the wrinkles and tension went away. Later the hospice nurse recommended that I not watch them take the body out because it had stiffened, and I appreciated that because now I can remember the relaxed mother I saw last.” — Aoife, a designer from Northern California

Especially when the route has been long and marked by physical struggle, many people observe that the moments around death itself are calm. “So many people I talk to about dying tell me they wish they could die in their sleep. I’d estimate 95 percent of people dying naturally from illness go into brief coma — like a profound sleep state — before they die,” hospice nurse Callanan says. “So the good news is that most of us do die in our sleep.”

Jo Reichel, a teacher in Michigan, sat watching the Olympics with her father the morning he died after a summer full of repeat hospitalizations. “I was sitting on the floor next to his chair and kept looking between the TV and him. At 6:30 he was alive, and by 6:32, he’d simply stopped breathing. At first I wasn’t even sure I should wake my sisters to tell them, because he looked so relaxed.”

For Frances, an Ohio accountant, the moments after death were unreal but not frightening. “I’d never been in the room with a dead person before. But I had a strong sense that body wasn’t my father any more. It felt like he had up and left the room; it was terribly sad but also strangely peaceful.”

Witnessing a death is often transformative and brings survivors close.

“Seeing a person you love dying taps into the best parts of your nature.” — Lise Funderburg

Before experiencing the death of a loved one, many people view the prospect with dread. Afterward, they often look back on their death-witnessing experience as having been a horrible, grief-stricken time that nevertheless brought certain gifts. Among these: new insights into their own capacity for selfless love and caring, renewed or intensified bonds with other family members, a new respect for siblings or medical staffers, a healing of old wounds.

“The situation asked for grace, patience, and charity, so something I actually benefited from was to see I had a fairly deep capacity for those things that hadn’t been called on in the same way before,” says Funderberg, who wrote about her father’s long final illness in Pig Candy: Taking My Father South, Taking My Father Home. “Someone dying is a great prioritizer. What does something like the resentment you were holding onto matter now?”

To be sure, the passing away of a loved one can be almost unendurable. That in the end it is endurable seems to be both its blessing and its curse.

Complete Article HERE!