Heaven, Hell and Hospital

The next set of posts will form a series chronicling my nine days in hospital and with these posts I bring exciting news! If you're squeamish, you'll be healed of your squeamishness by the time this series is complete. 

This is going to get messy, personal and somewhat dark. But don't fear, it gets better I promise, so stick with it. Over the next, however many posts this takes me to put together, you're going to discover a lot of different sides to me. Some good, some not so good, so any perceptions that you had of me being a nice guy all the time, I'm afraid I'm about to disappoint you.

But hey, I'm human and that's just something we all have to come to terms with. After all, and I hope you'll agree, none of us are perfect, but we're 'works in progress' all moving towards greater things, a destiny beyond our wildest imagination. Let's enjoy the journey together.

Here we go...

Chapter 1 - Heaven, Hell and Hospital

The ambulance pulled up in the ambulance bay at New Cross Hospital, Wolverhampton. By this time I was incoherent, paranoid and panicking. The doors to the ambulance flung open and another paramedic came bounding towards the truck, a look of distress and anxiety strewn across his face.

In fact the 'paramedic' making great strides toward the ambulance was my dad. He was still in uniform having been notified of my condition by Laura and, upon hearing news of my condition, dropped everything to be at my side. He stepped onto the ambulance, I partially smiled and acknowledged his presence, however, he seemed much more concerned than the other paramedics.

I soon established the reason why. He said: "Hello son". At first I thought this was merely a term of endearment, however, it quickly became apparent to me that this man was addressing me as a father would address a son. Tears quickly filled his eyes as he gazed down at the vague, blank expression on my face.

My response was swift, blunt and, for my dad at least, a dagger to the heart, "you're not my dad", I yelled. He reached into hug me, I flinched and withstood his attempt to embrace me by immediately lying back down on the trolley and turning my head away.

On the outside at least, I remained firm, the simple truth is I didn't recognise him and I was unwilling to trust this man 'claiming' to be my father, what kind of 'paramedic' would say that?. However, on the inside, my heart broke, my mind raced, I was confused, I was in turmoil. I sobbed silently, removing myself from my surroundings, deliberately avoiding eye-contact so that 'these people' would not see me cry.

It was then that I saw it, the unmistakable presence of a golden figure, with a silhouette of fire, massively tall and armed with a sword of silver bearing the word 'victory'. Yet, beyond the figure of 'majesty', shadows amassed, reaching for me, at first it appeared they were reaching for me in an act of embrace. However, they seemed angry, their faces scowled and their eyes were empty as if the 'creatures' lacked a soul, the noise they made was deafening. It was clear to me that these 'shadow' figures were hostile. 

Yet above the shrieks, I heard a simple whisper from the golden figure. It stood, I would like to say 'arms' spread wide, but I'm unsure. However, what I am sure of is the words uttered. The spread figure held back the shadows, and whilst doing so, said: "I bring you a message, you're Father is with you, now is not a time to fear, but a time to trust."

As quickly as the words left the lips of this figure, the figure vanished. The shadows rushed over me, I didn't feel them hit me, but I heard them in my head. The voices were relentless and what I heard was far from positive. At that moment the 'message' delivered by the mysterious figure offered little comfort, only an overwhelming sense that, along with everything else, I'd been abandoned.

I tried to rationalise what I was seeing, what I was hearing. Had the golden figure made reference to the 'paramedic' claiming to be my Father? Was the figure, along with the shadows,  a result of the blow to my head or was it a dream, had I again passed out without realising?

There was no clarity, I couldn't distinguish between dream or reality, did what just happen really happen? Was it a vision? I couldn't get my head around it. Then suddenly darkness.

I awoke again in a hospital corridor, the bright lights temporarily impaired my vision, my surroundings were spinning and the nausea I felt was intense. My entire body ached now and I felt paralysed. I had no recollection of coming off the ambulance.

I felt cold and voices echoed around me. The corridor was long, narrow and rife with activity. I felt exposed, vulnerable, like everyone was staring at me. I imagined that a crowd had gathered to watch me, like some animal housed in a clear perspex cube.

I knew my eyes were wide open, but I had no focus, I heard the voice of the 'paramedic' claiming to be my father, close by. But, more worryingly, the hospital corridor was filled with, what I can only describe as, an army of shadow like figures.

I remember screaming for my son, constantly asking where he was, begging for someone, something, to hear me.

I suddenly sat bolt upright on my bed, looking around frantically, the shadows were everywhere. Before me & behind me. They were chanting and the chant was clear, decisive, and for me, at that particular moment, it was very convincing. "You'll never get it back, you have been abandoned."

My head sank, I cried, I screamed and I beat the hospital walls with my hands until my hands throbbed. I knew of what the shadows spoke, they spoke of my memories. For the first time in the last two hours, since the incident occurred, I found clarity. I suddenly realised that my reality was the beginning of a spiritual battle, a battle for my life, my heart, my mind, my soul, my spirit and what I was seeing in the form of shadows and golden figures was a clash of realms that the natural eye is unaware of, but the spiritual eye is so in tune with.

Did I understand it? No! Was I in fear of it? Yes! Once the crying, the screaming and the rage subsided, I was left with two things. A deep sense of hopelessness and an even deeper sense of loss.

The battle between heaven and hell in my life, at this time, had begun in the corridor of a hospital I was becoming all too familiar with.

Next time...

Needles, Neurology and Nurses.