ARC: COMA'S TWILIGHT ZONE

COMA’S TWILIGHT ZONE

© ARC – 3/7/2023 – 1^st Draft Emailed to RD/Dr. P. – 8/10/23

Names not used, just initials.

Me: R’ and/or M’

MS for perpetrator

RR for mon ami

CE for guest who ran to neighbor’s house calling 911

SB guest attacked

I am working on memoir…originally, I intended on it being a progression. However, it seems to accumulate in frames of experiences with each segment standing alone like this piece on when I was in a coma for two months prompted to write and finish and forward to Dr. Provencio in answer to his request in featured Reader’s Digest September 2021 article as follows:

rdservice@custhelp.com

Reader's Digest US - September 2021 ... - Magzter

Magzter

https://www.magzter.com › Lifestyle

Get your digital subscription/issue of Reader's Digest US-September 2021Magazine on Magzter and enjoy reading the Magazine on iPad, iPhone, Android devices ...

Dr. Provencio curingcoma@neurocriticalcare.org

RD.COM

SEPTEMBER 2021

The Healthy

Wellness from THE HEALTHYCOM

What It’s Like to Be in a Coma

The twilight zone between life and death is a mystery that doctors can solve

BY Lauren Cahn

Illustrations BY James Steinberg

https://www.discountmags.com/magazine/readers-digest-september-1-2021-digital

This was the course of events.

ARC is nonprofit I informally founded at birth of daughter in 1968 with `mission’ intent of doing what `one person’ could accomplish in honoring divine avocation loving God with whole mind, heart, soul; neighbor as self – helping in whatever way I could, as able.

Initially ARC sponsored around the clock Children’s Schoolhouse primarily for blue collar workers which had normal day hours from 6 AM ‘til 6 PM and had pre-school curriculum. Also featured were special aid for parents who were taking part-time college classes, attentive care for ill students whose parents could not afford to miss work; and special aid for those seeking adult vacations. Initially licensed for six, grew to care of 12. Sometimes this required quite a `juggling act’ to never go over 12 number at any one time.

I was simultaneously taking night community college classes and then had a parent teacher aid when day classes were added. It took me decade just to earn A.A.

My children were aide de camps the older they got.

I did this for two decades and then homeless crisis called to heart imagining my polio afflicted mother and retarded sister on the streets.

I truly believe I was guided to state seminar that introduced nonprofits to new programs offering subsidy who were helping homeless addicts. The Oxford Model was used as an example.

It was the perfect transition time. I was assured that non-interest loans were available, and economic subsidy for homeless off the streets.

Without any experiential and/or academic knowledge I jumped in `where angels fear to tread’.

By now reading the following: Homeless Solution Ideas…you will be aware of `all that proceeded before attack’.

http://arc-namaste.blogspot.com

https://arc-namaste.blogspot.com/search?q=Homeless+Solution+Ideas

https://www.guidestar.org/profile/95-3855901

https://www.latimes.com/archives/la-xpm-1991-02-21-me-2469-story.html

https://drive.google.com/file/d/1k5i5gWwrb4Cqi3ve0c_d6KB1cJHL9FEc/view

TV NEWS featured Dr. Renee’ Namaste’ – Homeless Recovery Shelter

ARC publishes on Kindle – complimentary, as able,

AssociationRenaissanceCreators@yahoo.com

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ARC Association Renaissance Creators. ARC MUSINGS 2018. See more. Kindle from $0.99. The Kindle title is not currently available for purchase.

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· HOMELESS SOLUTION IDEAS eBook : Association ...

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Buy HOMELESS SOLUTION IDEAS: Read Kindle Store Reviews - Amazon.com. ... HOMELESS SOLUTION IDEAS by [ARC Association Renaissance Creators].

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· SOBER LIVING WOES: Not In My Neighborhood eBook : ...

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Oxford House – The Model

Oxford House

https://www.oxfordhouse.org › doc › themodel

PDF

It is a simple concept, based on the Oxford House experience, and provides a cost-effective way to help thousands of individuals recovering from alcoholism and

…

03/09/23 Thursday @ 6:51 AM

By reading above blog listing Homeless Solution Ideas, you have more detailed history on what happened – so now, time to share the details of attack to when I came out of the coma.

The last thought I had when the knife pierced my right eye was excruciating pain and shock: I’m going to die! I blacked out.

It must have been soon after that

I am aware of being in mon ami’s (R.R.) arms

and he is sobbing hysterically – (he thought I was dead)!

I managed to gasp:

Get Help!

Then, I was out again.

Again, it must have been soon after that I remember hearing crashing door sounds – then a voice: Look at all that blood!

The next is surreal

for I felt fear/danger and that I had become a plane escaping…

this feeling was in fact, rescue helicopter airlifting me to hospital.

I remember voice saying: R…, hang in there! Don’t leave me!

Then hallucination

I am in a bell tower with close woman friend –

someone is shooting down below.

The next hallucination was

me looking up from lying down position in a control type tower

and people looking down on me – (this must have been hospital ER)

then, I had hallucination of me like a bride,

then another of an aunt (famous for how tough she was): her hand was being pierced by a knife – then total unconsciousness again.

Then, hallucination of

being in a large hull of a ship trying to hang on as it is being tossed in a storm simultaneously hearing son’s voice – Mom, hang on.

Then hallucination

group of men on horses riding towards me

and son’s voice saying they’re dangerous.

Then, somehow, I know it is much later.

I have the feeling of semi reclining – twilight consciousness

and looking at wall with pictures on it and large circle clock.

I’m aware that I am `waiting’ but don’t know what for.

Some time passes, and I am `tired’ of waiting – slip back into coma.

This reoccurs multi times.

I am semi-conscious and hear `party celebration’.

I know I am calling someone to me `mentally’ – no one responds.

I am upset! This too reoccurs several times.

I realize `after coma’ that what I was hearing

were Christmas and New Year’s celebrations…

which would have been

two and three weeks after attack on December 15, 2005.

I have several hallucinations –

when I came out of coma, was able to actually recall and `separate’ what were hallucinations and what was `real’.

I heard a woman talking to me and sounded like my cousin E. I found out later it was her daughter, T., who came to visit –

I had never met T. Voices were similar.

In the beginning, I heard woman sobbing and thought it was my sister a room away – wondering why her daughters did not go to her – realized after coma, it was my daughter who was crying.

I had hallucination same time of sister’s daughters debating something.

I had another hallucination of people in danger in a home.

My son was there but he was young like an adolescent. He was acting like a military commander protecting. A niece, M.F. was there in military uniform like a Sabra.

Then hallucination: I know I am in a hospital and have to escape. I hear mon amie’s voice – he has come to help me. There is RV outside and he manages to get me in it. We drive away.

This here is extra poignant.

I `wake’ – know I am in a hospital – my arms are encased in casts. I am so `puzzled’. I slip back into unconsciousness.

Another time, I again `wake’ – know I am in hospital. Someone comes in and looks down on me. Our eyes are talking to each other. It is a man, but I have the strangest sensation of him looking like Star Wars

Chewbacca (/tʃuːˈbɑːkə/ choo-BAH-kə), nicknamed "Chewie", is a fictional character in the Star Wars franchise. He is a Wookiee, a tall, hirsute, bipedal, intelligent species originating from the fictional planet of Kashyyyk.

Chewbacca - Wikipedia

Wikipedia

https://en.wikipedia.org › wiki › Chewbacca

His `eyes’ are crying for me. He starts to go.

I plead with my eyes: don’t go.

He responds with `eyes’ – “I have too”. This is NOT a hallucination.

Another hallucination was me driving a car to my son and it had to do something about golf: he is avid golfer. This hallucination seemed so real that when my son arrived two months later, talked to him saying I was sorry about the car and he is looking at me funny…took me a little while to realize this one was an hallucination.

The following hallucinations seem to have `personal problem solving’ towards spiritual questions I have had…

Once, for example, in my salad days, I was wrestling with a spiritual dilemma. I drove to the beach and was pacing up and down wrestling with concept. I suddenly had Eureka moment and actually leapt in the air like `Rocky’ feeling only to fall flat on my face resulting in humorous self-deprecating laughter that I may have figured out one thing only to be jolted with reminder to stay humble.

The hallucination had me `aware’ that there was a fire nearby. I am mentally (calling) to my ICs (Inspirational Counselors). This is the name I have given to heavenly hosts who I `feel’ have volunteered to help me. I am exclaiming empathetically there is a fire nearby, how do I get help! I am `told’ sometimes, not supposed to help…it’s supposed to be. I am distressed over this. I need to call someone. I am suddenly `consciously aware’ that I am in a hospital. Again, I mentally call for help…but nothing…and then `it’ fades out.

This next one is `eerie’. I know I am in a hospital bed. There is a dresser hutch nearby. On it is a book. It is open. There is a quill pen lying across it. To the side is a diminutive Asian man and woman. They look like they are in their 70s. They are both smiling tenderly at me. I know that I am `mentally’ talking with them. They are `saying’ – it’s ok. You can go on now. Your name is in the book. I am startled. I say, no, it’s not allowed. They say – yes, it’s ok. I again assert no; it would be suicide. Then, I slip down deeper.

Why eerie? Because `they’ show up in my real life after. First, let me finish – there are two more scenarios that I AM NOT CALLING HALLUCINATIONS.

It is night. I know I am lying down. I hear my `mother’s voice’ calling me by `family name’ like in a drawn-out sing/song chant: M…J….; M…J… This is very important. You see my mother’s first baby was a girl named M. Accident birth canal took her life. The next child was a boy who had rheumatic heart disease. Parents were told he would not live past two. Next, another boy, with ear problems. Third boy ok. Then, me, so, so prayed for. I was given first daughter’s name with another added to separate the two. So, I hear her calling me. I `know’ she is trying to reach me. I am seeking her, much like a lighthouse beams out over the waters. `I’ am beaming towards the starlit sky. Suddenly we connect. I `know’ she feels me; I `feel’ her. She `hums’ one word: N…A…M…E…S. Her `voice’ fades…drifts…away…N…A…M…E…S….NAMES!

The last…I am on a raft…it is twilight…there is a mist. Someone, I can’t see who, is gently moving the raft with a push pole. I am `reminded’ of Tom Sawyer island at Disneyland. I hear music playing just like the radio station did when I was a little girl in family home. As we get closer, the mist starts to rise. I see pavilions and lots of people. But, as we get closer to shore, I see my eldest brother whose strong will had him living to his 70s. He is smiling. I get close enough – the Pavilions have a large sign: Welcome Home, MJ. I start shaking my head. He looks at me really puzzled. I say: it’s not my time. He says: yes, we are all waiting. I say: no, I am not ready. He says: your place is ready, same for Aunt A. I say, she’s not here, yet. He says, right, but it’s ready. And, I say, again:no…and the raft slowly goes backward.

There were pictures of my family on the wall.

It was with my son, that I ask him: “What happened? Was I in an accident?” His look of surprise was startling: Mom, you were attacked…AND THEN ALL OF IT, LIKE A FAST FORWARD MOVIE SCENE – WAS BACK!!!

Time to insert what happened in real time

THAT WAS SHARED.

Three homeless guests and my mon ami were in the back yard burning trash allowed in the rural district.

The perpetuator followed victim to upstairs bedroom. He had a knife and began attacking. Victim got away through upstairs window onto porch screaming for help. Perpetuator came downstairs – I heard loud noise in kitchen. I came out confronting him – he was in front of the utensil’s drawer. He looked up – wicked smile – came around the divider with `shanks’ in both hands and began stabbing. I am calling for mon ami loudly, but unable to scream. Upstairs victim hears me calling – and he too is screaming, yelling – he is attacking M!

My mon ami tosses his cell phone to another guest, runs towards house.

In the meantime, perpetuator is slashing, grinning, and taunting me. I am `in surreal’ shock. He is slowly herding me – backing me up to my bedroom. At some point – three minutes? – I remember my cell phone, turn to run – it is next to my bed – start to punch, he is behind me – I turn, fall, and the last stab wound I remember is right eye – piercing pain – the shocked loud THOUGHT: I am going to die!

The first one attacked upstairs got away through upstairs window, calling for help. He heard me calling loudly for mon ami – knew I was being attacked downstairs.

R. (mon ami) tossed cell phone to C, ran towards house.

Attacker, M.S. saw him through window, left me, went to front door to head off R. He opened door – saw attacker and yelled what the F… is going on. R. is tall big man – attacker turned and left. R. came in room – it was now dark. He locked door, turned and put light on, saw me lying on floor – came to me – took me in his arms – hysterically crying loudly. He thought I was dead.

When I momentarily came too, and gasped: Get Help; he crashed through window to keep door locked. Police and ambulance were arriving. C. had run to neighbors and called for help. R. had tossed cell phone to S. when he came off roof.

Police thought R. was attacker (covered with blood), went to arrest him; S.B. yelled: no, that is not him. M.S. had gone back in house.

The police arrested M.S. S.B. told police what was going on. The ambulance took S.B. to hospital too. But I was too serious at local hospital, so helicopter airlifted to major hospital in nearby metropolis.

At station, asked M.S. what happened. He confessed that he had a disagreement with S.B. over a video game. He had knives with him to confront him when he went inside. When he got away, he went back to knife drawer to `shank up’ when I came out. So, why did you attack her? She just got in the way.

Later, I learned from police report, that the authorities thought he was going to plead insanity…and he knew that, so he said: I knew what I was doing, my Father is Satan, you know.

Consequently, because he confessed, he got 15 years maximum without parole – no trial.

S.B. was examined and released.

R.R. called my children on West coast and owners of the home. They gave him ride to the hospital. He stormed down the emergency room corridor. Doctors came out and told him it was really bad – might not make it. He insisted saying: she taught me about God; I told him HE could have 20 of mine to give to her. They were astounded…went back in. Came out later saying, maybe, but might have to take my arms. He replied: Are you crazy; why would you save her only to take her arms. She is Sicilian, talks with her hands and is a WRITER. Go back in! Again, they were overwhelmed with his authoritarian presence/belief.

When my children arrived; they and R.R. were told it looked like I had made it but would probably be nursing care for the rest of my life. They replied in unison: you don’t know her!

I heard other voices that I recognized. I know I opened my eyes and called them by name. They laughed – two women – said no, that wasn’t their names: then I sunk down again. I learned later it was granddaughter and her mother who had visited me.

Then, another time I came too. There is a nurse there and for some reason, we are giggling over something. Then, sunk down again. I found out later I had pneumonia.

I regained total consciousness on Valentine’s Day 2006 – knew I was in a hospital but that was all. There were flowers in my room (sent by children’s father; another one by relative). I was alone. I knew a nurse came in – she said her name was Martha – she seemed really, really nice. I remember, I did not do any talking. It was like I was there, but not really…simply, watching people in a hallway that I could see from my bed. I know that I was like that a few days until Martha came – it was night – really quiet. She said I was being taken for an MRI. I know I felt panicked. My eyes pleaded with her to stay. She knew; reassured me; held my hand in the elevator as two others wheeled me in the bed. They lifted me up and laid me down on the machine. She kept comforting me. I was scanned. It did not take long. I knew I felt relief. Then they took me back.

I guess another day or two went by, when I knew that I recognized my son and daughter in one of the pictures. I wanted them! Then, to my surprise, I saw whom I thought was my daughter in a doctor’s coat talking to others in the hallway.

At some point, doctors/nurses came – told me they were removing the tracheotomy tube. Apparently, there is concern that it might hamper voice being back. I had my voice, but does not sound the same. To this day, it hurts (restricted), and for some reason, escalates horribly when on the phone to the point that I avoid it refusing to use unless truly necessary: prefer emailing instead.

She looked up but did not come to me. I started calling louder. I started to be really upset. She was ignoring me.

Finally, Martha came; and I said I wanted my daughter. She had left. Martha said my daughter wasn’t there. Then, I said, call my son. I was really agitated. Finally, a doctor came. I told him to call my son. He said: your son doesn’t want to talk to you.

Needless to say, I was starting `to lose it’. I was trying to get out of the bed. It was nighttime. Someone came and just sat by the bed, watching me. I told the person my daughter was acting like a doctor to try and get me out. Then, this had to be a hallucination for I thought I saw out the window that it was snowing, but my mon ami was there signaling to me, coming to get me.

I remember also telling the person I had money hidden in the Bible (true) if he helped me. There was an amused look on his face. Then, something must have happened for suddenly there were others there. I was truly panicking; felt like they were going to tie me to the bed and that they wanted me to say something. If I said the right words, they would release me. The next day, when Martha came, I told her. She said no one was with me last night. I did not believe her. Still don’t: that’s how `real’ it was!

So, I am re-stating…throughout that first year of rehabilitation that was so surreal, there was in addition to Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, NEED to assimilate all that happened prior, and the haunting coma for hallucinations and `other’ kept revivifying.

I need to go back and explain a little more.

After the MRI, and the agitating incident with me calling for my daughter, I was `transferred’ at night to a `basement’ ward. I began to `panic’. When I arrived, the room was `freezing’ – bed not made.

I WAS SCARED/TERRIFIED!

In my memory was incident where someone, I did not remember the name then, was placed in a mental institution. I believed that they were doing that to me because I had made a ruckus about `seeing my daughter’ – calling for my son.

Then there was a nurse aide for me. She had a cell phone. I had the pictures and on my daughter’s was her phone number. I begged the nurse aid to call my daughter. My poor daughter was distraught at hearing my panicked scared voice. She immediately called hospital management and an executive came to see me, but she was visibly upset that I had called my daughter complaining. I was not in a `mental’ ward but transferred out of intensive care. The `basement’ was simply bottom floor of busy hospital. Soon after, though, my son came and `filled me in’. He told me that I had had a priest give me Extreme Unction that first day when it seems I was `touch and go’. They were going to do a test on my stabbed eye. Again, I was panicking. Fortunately, my son came with me when they wheeled me to another room for the test. But it was dark, and I had to wait…becoming more and more agitated. Then my son informed me that the hospital was strongly encouraging me to transfer to the rehabilitation unit. My son said, after that, my daughter would be picking me up to take me back west where I would be taking turns staying with him and her. If necessary, a caretaker would be brought in. This, apparently, was `miracle’ prognosis vs the initial one that said: line up a convalescent home.

Before moving on to rehab, my son `filled me on some things that I do not remember’.

My arms had been encased in blue casts – removed right before I came out of coma.

Father Emmanuel was name of priest who gave me Extreme Unction. He even came to see me: I do remember him, beatific smile.

I did have pneumonia.

The tracheotomy was removed as well as the feeding tube.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tracheotomy

I was alerted that my voice might not be there; it was, but I don’t recognize it – totally different. Removing the tube hurt.

A beautiful nurse was there and promised to celebrate, she would personally cook something for me to eat the next day.

I asked for homemade Chicken Soup. She kept her promise. It was delicious.

I still feel bad after a volunteer woman came and played her guitar for me. All I remember is being exhausted and not enthusiastic. I regret that I was not more hospitable and grateful!

I learned that my son and daughter had asked a relative to be on alert when I came out of the coma so I wouldn’t be alone. Alas, didn’t happen which is why I went through panicky moments.

A hallucination or reality (this one I can’t separate) is that I also first experienced was seeing snow out the window in intensive care and being able to look down and saw mon ami there with a van. I think this was the same night they came in to watch me for I must have gotten out of bed.

So, my son had to return back West, and he requested that I have a nurse aide assigned to me. It was another Martha. She was really nice. It was embarrassing for me to need incontinence wear. I did not like to ask for help. She gently admonished me that she was there for me.

One day as I was alone, I saw a woman minister in the hallway. I signaled her to please come to me. I told her I needed to talk to the mon ami who saved my life. She arranged it through the switchboard. Hearing his voice was surreal to me. He promised that he would be there when I was finished with rehab so that he could see me before my daughter took me back West.

Rev. Lizette, Father Emmanuel, Martha/ICU, Martha/Nurse Aide, Chicken Soup nurse, plus another one who had infectious smile and high energy in my constant prayers.

When I went to Rehabilitation Building, I had a very large room across from the eating area and next to a lounge. The first day there, two executives came to visit me. They explained that a special program was designed for me and someone would come and get me. I know the following sounds funny, but there was a part of me very astute, another surreal.

The best way I can describe then, and still to this day is like I am a kaleidoscope and each experience seems to `shift’ in awareness and response.

The first night I could not sleep in the bed. I had had trouble ever since becoming alert – it seemed to worsen. Thus, I went next door where there was a couch. I discovered I could sleep much better even though it was like `in and out’ twilight sleep. That has remained to this day…I sleep on a couch – up every single hour needing a `squirt’ of Nyquil/with water. I have trouble breathing! Nightmares to this day can be triggered – some are horrific, and I come up `yelling’. This, even though, it is over a decade later. The PTSD is analogous to what military go through. It never ENDS! And anything can be a catalyst.

When the psychologist came to see me, he did hypnosis. This was a little `funny’ to me, because I too know the discipline. What was interesting is that when I explained revivication, he did not know what I was referring too. It wasn’t `memory’ – it was re-living. I did not use the word, but I knew what I meant.

Another thing, he used a `smell’ association, and it magnified, because I knew I couldn’t smell. This has always been for me, except interestingly if it is danger like `gas’ from a stove.

The physical therapists were extraordinarily nice. Some exercises seemed banal to me, but years later I realize how smart they were to give them for to this day, some fingers cannot bend from stab wounds – I know it would have been much worse if exercises weren’t done.

My sister arrived – and seriously, I could have cried for she took me down the hall in a wheelchair where there was an open shower, and she washed my hair THAT HADN’T BEEN DONE SINCE ADMITTANCE! The feeling of `relief’ was tearful joy!

I HAD FANTASIES OF SHAVING MY HEAD – did not understand why it itched so!!!

Most meals were brought to me until she came and then we both ate in the communal room. It was poignant to hear others describe reasons why they were there.

I truly can’t remember the incident, but some woman administrator said something, and it upset me. My sister challenged me: was I going to let her get away with it?

I learned there was a chapel. I did not tell anyone, but I sought it out – tremendously comforting to me – yet so, surreal!

The owners of the home I had supposed to buy, came separately. The man nice enough to bring me soup. She with a friend. They `knew’ there was no way I could follow through with purchase – and again `realized’ something else going on that I did not understand!

Then, weird. A woman came to ask me all kinds of questions regarding insurance.

Again, feelings of something going on that I did not understand.

The long and short of it was: `they’ – hospital administration thought I must have been `flush’ with money as I was being given the 1^st class treatment. As soon, as `they’ realized, just the opposite, the very nice large room I was given was `taken’ away. I was moved to the end of the hall – double occupancy.

There was a `crime victim’ nonprofit organization that was referred to me. And even though, due to all that went down, and my non income state, Medi Caid should have been contacted with me enrolled but either they were, and I was not made aware of it, or they were not and therefore, sought out reimbursement by the Crime Victim’s funding. Or maybe, it was a combination of both.

Of all the `bills’ that I was subjected too, only one, the initial paramedics responded with a form letter that in essence recognized my state and annulled the bill. Truly, an A+ class gesture!

I completed two weeks of `rehabilitation’ – there was no extra encouragement, this time around, for me to extend stay.

My daughter and mon ami arrived to pick me up.

Seeing them at the hospital truly was a `jolt’ – for I still was having trouble comprehending that I had really been in a coma for a solid two months.

When my sister came, three cousins came to visit. One I had never met and his mother/aunt I hadn’t seen in over fifty years!

When I had moved away from the East Coast back in 1960, I had not maintained contacts, but my sister had – and she usually visited every few years.

While they were there, relatives called me from the West Coast and their tone of delight hearing my voice accelerated my awareness how difficult it must have been for loved ones hearing what had happened and the shock of not knowing for sure how I was doing.

The flight returning to the West Coast was the next day, and I was able to understand a little of what my future was going to be. Depending on how able I was to be alone would determine if a caregiver would need to be called in.

I was going to stay intermittently with my son and daughter half of the time; and if able, visit mon ami back on the East Coast.

My daughter was in an apartment complex. She wanted to give me the master bedroom, but I `had’ to have the couch. It was interesting how it gave me an `added’ measure of security coupled with `two’ exits. The complex had a sauna – swimming pool. I have never enjoyed swimming pools – nor the ocean, but love healing sauna waters – and truly, it was that for me.

I had one scare that forced me to go to exigent care soon after arrival – profuse bleeding. It stopped – did not re-occur.

I started a habit of walking to nearby park – serenity praying.

That first and second year were so surreal – trying to get stronger; find peace. My children would drive me back and forth between their abodes and loving family came to visit.

It was in 2007 that some dramatic events happened. My daughter bought a home strategically placed whereby I could walk to nearby park, library, doctor, dentist, hospital, church, mall. Interesting, even though I now had a bedroom, it was the couch that became the safest for me; but there had also been a serious problem from the first. I could only breathe through my mouth. I also had intermittent nightmares and there was no rhyme nor reason that I could figure out what triggered one. So, the pattern was without fail on the hour, need to sip some water and bathroom need. I soon discovered that if I also sprayed a bit of NyQuil, it helped me to slip into a sleep state again. It literally felt like going up and down a slide.

And a phenomenal dog was adopted. For the first time, I truly learned why they are so, so loved. I had to walk her. Inevitably, came across a neighbor who was kind enough to listen to me for my speech was slurred – face drooped considerably. I had the look of someone who had a stroke. It was these daily walks and neighbors that contributed so, so much to positive rehabilitation.

And, then I felt the calling for early 6:00 AM mass at church 1 ½ miles away. Even though it was dark, and next-door neighbor expressed serious concern, there was no mistaking the strong urging I felt.

Fascinating, immediately at church, a woman approached me in the rest room asking if I had a stroke… she had been a military nurse and became a friendly welcoming presence in my life.

No sooner than that happened, when would you believe a woman driving saw me walking home and offered me a ride.

Another NURSE! She too, became vital.

Now, get this. I started walking my dog in the park too. And I carried a rosary. Franky, it was truly comforting to me just to hold it. It `literally’ revivified memories of my mother and retarded sister. Suddenly a woman hurried up to me. She too was carrying a rosary and crying! She asked for prayers for her daughter with cancer was having a foot amputated that day. I hugged her and promised I would – asked her name.

Long story short, I saw her at church soon after. She invited me to breakfast and a friendship started that has grown over the past one and a half decades.

I was adjusting well to recovery. Even though my looks had drastically changed, I was ok except for the occasional startled look from a child. I was used to always inviting smiles – that changed!

I was in the beginning very concerned about how I had `frozen’ during attack. Prior, I truly had a strength and demeanor to me of being very `strong’. In my salad years, knowing I was often solo and about, I took a self-defense class from a policewoman that increased my knowledge and confidence.

NONE OF THAT EXCISTED in the face of `evil’ attacking with knives simultaneously taunting with malevolent grin.

The thought haunted me what if I was with a loved one like daughter or grandchild, would I freeze again.

The nightmares were constant, but then there was one that had a phenomenal breakthrough – I was with daughter – and I did not freeze! There was only one, but it had the power to `satisfy’ me even though the others still occurred.

Then, one day on the way to church, I was surprised to see across the street an elderly couple walking. I crossed over and to my shock, they looked like the couple in the coma. I told them my name and said I was going to church and asked them where they were going. They gave me their Asian names and said to the nearby park. After that I saw them constantly – almost every day. We would smile and greet each other. I truly felt as if I had my own special accompanying angels.

But, one day, just as I left my track to start walking down the main road, a very large man wearing a hooded sweatshirt came out from across the way heading in the direction of my couple. All I could think of was `they would be startled’. I quickly went across the street without even thinking and abruptly went up to him and asked him who he was and were he was going. He seemed flustered and replied meekly: Mam, my name is Manuel, and I just started going to the gym that opens early. I knew the gym did have early hours. I said, I am worried my friends might be nervous as we weren’t used to seeing you, so I am going to walk with you and introduce you – and that’s what I did.

I felt like a huge hurdle had been overcome. Interestingly, although still multiple, nightmares did seem to `lessen’.

Now to some other pivotal situations.

It was a 2 ¼ mile walk to church – leaving track homes, up busy thoroughfare over freeway, down another busy street that bypassed a park, around the corner where a hospital was, then a side street to the church.

Normally, I was the `only’ before and after my Asian couple.

The street next to the park had some sidewalk construction and one area wasn’t ribboned off and I took a nasty fall.

I got to the church and went in the restroom. Wow, I was a mess – and bleeding so I backtracked and went to the emergency room of the hospital. I did not have any identification on me, but I knew I `was’ in the system, because I had blood work done there.

In fact, before I continue with above, will share how when I went, I admitted to the nurse that what was once an easy task for me had become a very vulnerable ordeal. The sweetheart immediately opened her arms and I sunk into them like a child. What phenomenal grace my Manella had. Truly, it is amazing how a divine spirit radiates from luminaries.

So, even though in the system, bleeding, the wait was well into an hour before being seen and though, there was concern that maybe there had been violence towards me.

Now to one of the `sign’ incidents. As I turned the corner one other day close to the above incident, something spooked me. I can’t remember what, but I said extra prayer, please, reassure me that I can continue.

The very next day, same street, a little ahead of me coming from a side street, I see a young woman.

Now mind you, I have gone this route every single day at the exact same time.

I hurried forward – and approached saying Hi, my name is:

And I go this way all the time and I don’t remember seeing you.

She responds: Hi, my name is Christie and I’m going to work at the supermarket (which I knew was close by and did open early).

It was time for me to turn, she kept going forward; I never saw her again.

A similar incident about a year later: this time, male response: my name is Chris.

It was, I think, the 3^rd year…I felt guided to keep my cell phone in my hands.

As I went on the main thoroughfare, I did not see my friends. But way ahead, I could tell there was a car with headlights on pointing towards me on the wrong side of the street.

Again spooked: I called 911 – told the operator giving her directions when I saw the car driving towards me staying on the wrong side…I am truly scared by this time telling her. I know I cannot physically turn and run and beat the car. The car gets close: it is a police vehicle – I am so relieved – shaking/laughing, it is me calling you!

Another year goes by, again same area, I see a young man on a skateboard. I am nervous. I cross the street hoping to see my friends. They are not there. The kid sees me and starts toward me.

I wave the phone, yelling, I just called the police (I hadn’t). He yelled at me – and skated away.

Now the last incident which was into the 10^th year close to the anniversary of my attack in mid-December. I give dollar-tree Christmas candles to about 20 of my fellow parishioners. I had them in my backpack.

I am on the same street. The one that goes over the freeway. There is a guard rail on both sides of the street. And in the middle, there is a metal type screen that encloses the overpass.

I see across the street a young man. He sees me. I KNOW he is going to cross and come after me.

I try to run…I am so, so slow and terrified.

I turn, yes, he is running towards me!

I get pass the overpass and see up ahead coming out of the left side a small SUV – I have seen this vehicle in the past. It stops at sign and then turns left.

I dash across the street waving my arm! Driver sees me, reaches across and unlocks door. I get in! Lock door!

He is right there – pounds car -leaves. I call t police from the vehicle; profusely thank woman driver. She says: I have seen you and wondered where you are going. I tell her. She drives me to church.

So after over a decade of walking to daily mass, that was the last time for my early morning walk.

Now, I have to add something else here. The 6:00 AM mass was usually a half-hour in consideration of over half of the congregation were on their way to work. This was my preference as the priest normally did not do a homily in respect to that.

Saturdays, I did not go; I went to 8:00 Sunday mass which were longer for the homily.

When asked about my faith, I reply: Catholic Roots however I am A Renaissance Creator that affirms divine creation juxtaposed with evolution ala Pierre’ de Chardin’s Nooesphere. I am also declaring that I respect one/all faiths that have as their root premise respect for each other as self! I believe in the Primacy of Conscience.

Pope Francis reaffirms primacy of conscience amid criticism of ...

https://www.americamagazine.org › faith › 2017/11/11

Nov 11, 2017 — VATICAN CITY (AP) — Pope Francis on Saturday reaffirmed the“primacy” of using one's conscience to navigate tough moral questions in his ...

Consequently, many doctrines `taught’ by ultra conservative right are, I believe, in TOTAL NEGATION of principle: respect/loving other.

Thus, one Sunday, a priest was on a `tirade’ espousing negation of the LBGT community, and I walked out.

I decided I would forgo Sunday masses; instead went to what I consider the `divine church’ which is nature – nearby park.

Soon thereafter who do I surprisingly see but Sister Star, the nun who sang like an angel. She too was surprised to see me; and asked why she hadn’t seen me for a while. I told her the truth. She was horrified and immediately literally `begged’ me to please reconsider and go.

Well, as I am a true believer that divine guidance orchestrates individuals, books, movies, and so on, I considered this a `sign’ and I immediately left the park and headed the two miles only to arrive and immediately utter a silent whoop of laughter for the mass/homily were in Spanish which of course, I did not understand.

I did decide later to talk to the little Italian priest that I felt an affinity for as I am of Sicilian descent. He, surprisingly, was `tuned in’ to my dilemma, and he said in an empathetic way - `shut your ears’. He reminded me of two other priests whom I admired.

One, was an abbot of a monastery – so enlightened.

The other, posthumously, Pierre de Chardin, for his Noosphere philosophy.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pierre_Teilhard_de_Chardin

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Noosphere

So, I am going to try and conclude this treatise on coma experiences that went above and beyond.

The `one’ that is the most controversial is `hearing’ my mother call me by my childhood name and `saying’ NAMES!

Do I believe I `heard her’ – yes! Why?

My spiritual connection believes that `all those’ – kith/kin who became part of my `life’ in vivo and/or vicariously after were meant to be and added to the interminable prayer list that `literally’ can extend for an hour.

And, I have `met them’ – in vivo - HUNDREDS!!!

And, I have `met them’ – vicariously – the same!!!

Thus, I am grateful for every second that I have been blessed with and grateful for every future second left…

And, if God willing, I am allowed – when I am called, I pray that I am allowed to continue prayer blessings for remaining kith and kin on earth particularly those whom I have been praying for on earth. I have asked for a `911’ day job after three months upon arrival. I want to reunite with kith/kin. Weekends, I would like to be a tour guide. Nights: Dance/Play Bridge. I have also asked for `tract’ whereby luminaries I have loved on earth can nest if so desire.

Years ago, there was a news article about Gabrielle Giffords.

https://abcnews.go.com/Health/gabrielle-giffords-health-update/story?id=12576433

I emailed sharing how I heard loved ones in my coma.

It has been eighteen years since attack. My mon ami promised God 20 of his for me. Almost up. Most who knew me before heard my prayer that I would dance on my 100^th. I am positive that I had COVID when first appeared before testing. Since then, my body has seriously deteriorated. From a habit of walking almost two miles per day, it is now simply up and down walking my donated emotionally support canine, Monty. As an aside, when this first happened another one donated to me who literally enriched my awareness/thinking on how pets truly contribute to mental/physical/spiritual well-being. Penny went to the Rainbow Bridge:

https://www.rainbowsbridge.com/Poem.htm

Paco was found lost, adopted: gave so, so to me and veteran caretaker son who too suffers PTSD.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Post-traumatic_stress_disorder

PACO passed on, and petition prayers for `two more’ were nonstop. At Thanksgiving, two more donated: instant LOVE!

I am `working hard’ –

I slept and dreamt that life was joy. I awoke and saw that life was service. I acted and behold, service was joy.

Rabindranath Tagore

To finish memoir, care/share expertise regarding homeless, recovery, senior needs, multi writings, social concerned poetry…

I am a believer…divine will is my highest prayer in mind, thought, deed.

My prayer list is for one/all – family, friends, neighbors, associates, universal kith/kin in vivo and in the sweet by & by.

God Bless/Shalom/ARC

…