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. 
    

How did it come to this?

Me & the family at the wedding of a very close friend shortly after the incident.

The next instalment follows on from ‘De-Tree-Mental – Detrimental’ – Giving an account, 4 weeks preceding, the circumstances leading up to the ‘dream of three trees’. 

How did it come to this? Good question! My memory of this is sketchy and I’m writing from snippets of Laura’s recollection of events. For those of you reading this who don’t know me, Laura is my amazing wife and at this point I think it’s certainly worth honouring the woman, whose unwavering strength, serves as an example alluded to in wedding vows ‘in sickness (of which there has been a lot for me) and in health I will be by your side.' I owe a great deal to this incredible woman, whose instinct and quick thinking may well have saved my life.

Bang!!! My body, quickly followed by my face, hit the floor of the master bedroom in our two up, two down terraced house. Unexpectedly I suffered a seizure and my left side went numb. My head throbbed, probably from the impact of hitting the floor. You see, when you feel yourself falling it’s usually natural instinct to put your hands out to prevent serious injury. However, on this occasion my natural instinct had failed me.

I remember thinking this is it, I’m going to die. I don’t know what a stroke or heart attack feel like, but I’ve heard stories of people referring to the symptoms and my instant thought alluded to the idea that I was suffering a heart attack and then that stereotypical thought entered my head, but I’m only 28, I’m not ready to die, I have so much to live for.

I then found myself in darkness, Laura tells me that I’d passed out, lying in a pool of foam from my mouth, unconscious, barely breathing. I lay there and Laura recalls bounding up the stairs and finding me motionless on the floor.

Moments earlier I had been putting Jake, our eldest son, to bed and was on my way to the bedroom to get changed having been at work. Needless to say, I never got round to changing my clothes, instead I awoke to find Laura standing over me holding our son Jake. She was frantic, but managed to regain her composure in order to call an ambulance.

10 minutes later I was swamped by three paramedics. I was fitted with an oxygen mask and a whole host of sensor pads were attached to my hands, chest and feet, presumably to monitor my vital signs. I had a vague notion of what was going on as my Dad served as a paramedic, so I knew that whatever had happened was bad. However, it was not all the attention that concerned me.

The paramedics began to ask me a series of questions, such as name, date of birth, who my favourite football team are and they asked me to identify the two other people in the room. It was only at that moment that I realised something was terribly wrong, I couldn’t answer any of the questions, at first I put it down to being in a state of shock, I felt dazed, dizzy and sick and the cloud of darkness began to descend again.

But, the more I thought about the answers to these questions, the more I realised that I actually didn’t know the answers. Panic set in and the paramedics must have sensed it because at that moment they decided it was necessary for me to go to the hospital.

Problem was (with the greatest respect to the female gender) two of the paramedics were women who took one look at me and thought we’re not going to be able to move him, he’s a muscle mountain (yes quite a compliment I know).

It also dawned on the paramedic team of three that the stairs in our house were incredibly steep. This was going to be a challenge. We were left with only one option; I had to resort to sliding down the stairs on my backside, no feeling in my left side, head pounding and no idea where I was going. My well-being was now in the hands of people, who at the time, I didn’t know. Was I scared? You bet I was.

At the foot of the stairs a wheel-chair was waiting for me, I was wheeled into an ambulance, asked more questions, resulting in further frustration as I could not come up with any answers. The doors of the ambulance closed. Suddenly I felt vulnerable, alone and isolated.

What had happened to me? What was wrong with me? Why couldn’t I remember anything?

I thought I’d lost hours of my life. I later found out that all this had taken place within 20 minutes of me putting my son down. That knowledge frightened me. Knowing that many of us take our memory and our lives for granted. As quick as breathing in, I’d lost all my life’s memories and, if not for the fast actions of my wife, I may well have lost so much more.

Next time...

The hospital

'De - Tree - Mental' - Detrimental

Well here it is folks, nearly two years in the making, a personal account of those days when I thought I'd lost myself. This is quite an emotional moment as I begin to recollect and put into words one of the hardest trials in my life. I've always struggled to express, coherently, the feelings I endured during those dark days, but now I feel I am ready to share my story.

I write, not in pursuit of sympathy or pity, but with a deep sense of renewed hope in knowing that miracles do exist. I know many have waited for me, patiently, for this moment and my only desire now is that this journey that I've experienced serves to inspire, encourage and ignite an increased sense of faith that Heaven is indeed touching Earth.

The Dream of Three Trees

At the height of my 'illness' there was one particular moment that truly provoked a sense of fear that delved deep into the core of my being. In what can only be described as a vivid dream, I found myself faced with three trees, storm clouds gathered overhead and l was surrounded by long blades of grass that reached waist height.

The trees were all at different stages of life. The first, a tiny sapling, vulnerable, naive, seeking the rays of the sun. The second, a tree in full bloom as if at the peak of spring, birds nesting, branches bearing fruit, a tree full of life. The third, the largest tree of them all, showed no signs of life, it was dry and brittle showing all the signs of death.

It was this tree that my attention was drawn to and at the moment a menacing voice whispered in my ear: "This tree represents you, here and now. I've taken it all and you will never get it back."

I awoke from the dream screaming, cold and with a feeling that resembled emptiness, brokenness, the moment that I conceded defeat in ever getting my memory back.

It had been 4 weeks since the incident, but by far the most prominent moment, up to this point, had been this dream. Despite all the prayers, support, encouragement and the rallying of friends, family, acquaintances and strangers all around me, I must admit that this is the moment I'd lost all sense of self, of hope and of joy.

At that moment in time, I had become a shadow of my former self, going from a man who enjoyed incredible intimacy with a Heavenly Father, leading people into the presence of God, through worship, at home and across the nations, to a man that had no recollection of God, the family and friends that supported him and of himself. I'd lost it all!

  

The dream of three trees had taken everything from me. All concept of hope & joy had been drained from my heart and soul. I now felt like a failure, like I'd let so many people down, what was left was not a man, but a shell, that was simply watching life passing him by, seemingly powerless to prevent it.

Concluding note.

I hope you've enjoyed the first installment of the Christ in me, the Hope of Glory blog. The aim is to add a post on a monthly basis and I hope that you will read, share and be inspired over the coming days, months and years by the message of this blog.

I have been overwhelmed by the unending support of friends, family and well-wishers in encouraging me to make this blog a reality. Please do share it as you never know, you could be changing the life of someone you know.

Thank you.

Daniel Waldron.