Location: Queen Alexandra Hospital, Cosham, Portsmouth, England
Summary: The third time I was pronounced dead, I left my body, watched the medical team work on me, and experienced something beyond anything I can explain.
I remember everything about this event with absolute clarity. Before, during and after, nothing has faded from my memory. I have no doubt that what I describe here truly happened.
Before this experience, I had already been pronounced dead twice following my 1990 road traffic accident. Once at the scene by the ambulance crew and again at Southampton General Hospital. This event became the third time I was officially declared dead.
Pronounced Dead
At the time, I was in a single bed room opposite the nurses station near Ward D4 in Queen Alexandra Hospital in Cosham. I had been transferred there from Southampton General and was still very ill.
My friend was visiting me and we were talking when my nose suddenly began to bleed. I asked him for a tissue but the bleeding quickly became worse. The alarms on the equipment I was connected to all started sounding and nurses and a doctor rushed into the room, pushing my friend into a corner.
Despite everything, I felt completely calm. Then I found myself looking down at my body from above as if I were floating. I watched the doctor and nurses working on me. I saw the doctor performing CPR, then stepping back, checking his watch and pronouncing me dead. I had suffered a massive brain haemorrhage. The team disconnected the equipment and left the room.
I continued rising, looking down at my body as I floated upwards through the ceiling. Soft white clouds surrounded me and I heard a voice telling me it was not my time and that I had to return. I replied that I was warm and comfortable and did not want to go back, but the voice insisted. I repeated that I did not want to return but was told again that I must.
The next thing I remember is being back in my body, staring at the ceiling and gasping for breath. The medical team rushed back in and reconnected the machines. I must have lost consciousness again because my next memory is waking the following morning, once again connected to all the equipment. The nurses came in and asked how I felt and I told them what had happened.
Later that day, the doctor returned with the hospital chaplain. He said the nurses had told him I remembered being dead and asked me to retell my story. I described everything in detail, including who was in the room, where they stood and what they did. I told him about floating above my body and about the voice in the clouds.
The doctor turned white. He told the chaplain that everything I described was correct and that some of the details were impossible for me to have known because he had already pronounced me dead before some of those things happened. He confirmed the positions and actions of everyone exactly as I had described.
The chaplain asked if I was religious. I told him I was not and that although I believed in something, I did not believe in God and Jesus as I had been taught at school. He offered to talk more about faith if I wished and said I could ask the nurses to call him anytime.
Over the years, nurses, doctors, priests, family and friends have asked me about this experience. My memory of it has never changed. My belief in God has not changed either. I still do not believe in the single God and his son Jesus as I was taught, but I do believe there is something beyond our understanding. Something or somewhere that our soul, spirit or ghost goes after our body dies.
This event has had a significant effect on my life. I have become calmer and more accepting of things I cannot control. I still wonder who or what spoke to me when my consciousness left my body. I believe that humanity’s misunderstanding of whatever that presence is causes many of our conflicts and troubles.
Whatever you believe, I will always respect your faith. One day, I believe we will all meet elsewhere and realise that our beliefs were all rooted in the same thing, known by many names in many languages.
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