I have a life after death experience to share:
I worked off of the coast of Catalina as a dive-instructor for teenagers who were going through a particular program up until a year-ago. I also studied the estuaries around the Caribbean at the time.
We were at a dive site northwest of the coast of the Bahamas, where my dive partner from South Africa and I were looking around to ensure the general safety of the area.
We were down there for roughly fifteen minutes before an abrupt explosion from underneath a series of rocks. The hard stone knocked me on my head, others turning me upside down and all other fashion of directions.
With no where to reference up with, I found my tank had been ruptured and air was leaking out of the main valve through which the pressure was assigned. To make a long story short, I nearly drowned.
My South African partner had pulled me to surface while I was half-way unconscious. The problem with diving, though, is that if you rise to swiftly you’ll die. So he had to take it slowly. The last thing I can remember clearly is an EMT hurrying me into the hospital. I blacked out and began to dream.
I will tell you why this dream should have never occurred later. I was on a train that ran-round an infinitely tall hill. There were others on that train, but they all look liked ghosts–transparent. They had whole bodies but still didn’t seem as though they were ever real people, if you catch my drift.
Each minded his or her own business, as if nothing was of their concern anymore. And that suited me just fine because nothing seemed to concern me anymore, either.
Long story short, I woke up from that strange dream and found myself in a gospital bed with an middle-aged doctor with already greying hair huddled over me. He looked rather surprised at my recovery and stared at each at an older nurse for a few seconds. They informed me that I had been brain dead for several minutes and technically should not be alive.
Can’t dream if you’re brain dead…