I finally pieced together what happened to me.
My office is secure, so I was in there alone and the door was locked. I had just picked up a sandwich from Jimmy Johns and it was on my desk. I hadn’t even opened it.
I remember an immense pain in my chest and an inability to get off the floor. I remember dreaming that I was home in bed with my wife, and then I woke up again. I couldn’t get my breath. The pain was unimaginable. I couldn’t get up, so I started kicking my door from the floor. A co-worker heard me. I passed out again.
When I came to again, the school nursing staff was there with me and the ambulance was on the way. At this point I was in and out of it. I remember unlocking my phone so the nurse could call Susan.
Susan met us at the ER in Faribault. I was in and out, but I woke up for a second and told her that she could have my sandwich. I didn’t get around to it.
They needed to get me to Abbot Northwestern – which is one of the top four heart hospitals in the country. But the storm coming in was too dangerous for the helicopters. So they loaded me into another ambulance. I remember the drivers being very kind but somewhere along the way, I lost consciousness and didn’t regain it again for over 24 hours. I woke with a tube in my throat, and Susan telling me I was going to be OK.
Very soon after that, my pastor came in and read Psalm 27 and prayed with me.
Much later, I found out what had happened. I had a STEMI, (Acute ST elevation myocardial infarction of the inferior wall) which is nicknamed the widow-maker because of the horrible mortality rate. This kind doesn’t sneak up and take you from behind, It is a full assault. When I was 8, my grandpa died of this kind of heart attack. He was only 55.
The doctor told me that often the first symptom is death.
While I was under, I was told that I flat-lined and had to be put on life support. I was on two machines – an ecmo and an impella for something less than 24 hours keeping me alive and the blood oxygenated and flowing. At this point, the doctor told Susan to be prepared for palliative care.
Technically, it is called cardiogenic shock. When they heart goes into cardiogenic shock because of a STEMI, the mortality rate is around 80 percent.
But God had other plans. Because there were so many hundreds of you praying, my heart was ready to go on its own. Yes, I believe that God used the skill of the surgeons and the EMTs and the nursing staff and so many other things to spare my life. God wasn’t ready for me to go yet. The surgeon was pretty astounded and took me off the machines.
I have no memory of any of that.
I have had questions about what I saw. The simple answer is nothing. I have no memories of that whole time.
After I woke, I had hallucinations behind by eyelids whenever I closed my eyes, but for the most part they were ugly and hateful.
I had one horribly ugly nightmare, so bad I talked to several doctors about it. The psychiatrist admits there is mystery, but told me it is most likely the mind trying to formulate and make sense of what the body has been through. That sounds good to me.
As for my view of the afterlife, yes, I believe that when I die I will see Jesus and be with him. But I don’t get my faith from dreams and visions, but from faith in his promises.
My dreams and visions during that time were mostly ugly and frightening.
My moments of calm and peace were from holding my wife’s hand; listening to my pastor read and pray, reading the notes from all of you
I will have some PTSD to work through. I’ll have some PT to do and heart rehab to do.
For those who believe they saw something of the afterlife having the same experience, I don’t judge. People are different. I can only say what my experience was.
I don’t find peace and joy through dreams, but through sitting with the ones who love me and whom I love, reminding each other of God’s promises and resting in our Savior, who promised to never let go of our hands, even in the valley of the shadow of death.
I don’t know what happened to my sandwich. Susan tells me I might have to eventually let it go.
My Only Comfort 
I’m so incredibly glad you’re alright! We do not know each other but your blog entries are soul healing to a person who has been abused by Reformed and Evangelical churches, has left, but still follows Jesus.
While nowhere near as frightening, I have passed out a few times from blood loss and each time, instead of just blacking out, I’ve had hideous nightmares, incredibly vivid, accompanied by a panicked sense of doom and loss of control. I am very confident I will see Jesus when it’s finally my time, and chalk these nightmares up to the brain firing synapses like crazy because it senses crisis and doesn’t know what else to do.
Like you said, my peace and joy doesn’t come through dreams but rather the comfort of loved ones and God’s promises. I’d hate for someone to have a crisis of faith just because their brain goes into panic mode in response to a traumatic event.
I am so thankful God heard our many prayers and that you are still here, with all of us whether online or in real life. Most of all, I am thankful Susan and sweet Maggie still have you to hug and love!
So sorry you went through this, Sam. Praying for your full recovery.
thank you for sharing this. I died too, but I didn’t see anything either. For years. I felt guilty about not seeing the light but now I look at it like I was in the in between between life and death so there was no light. The light came when I came back ti see my husband and children I know that God saved me . I hope you feel better.
My experience as well. I am glad that we have solid promises of resurrection that aren’t as ephemeral as visions during trauma.