This is a
substantial compendium of NDE reports and it is instructive. We have an increasing mass of conforming data
that needs attention.
1
NDE
is observed during an episode in which death is clearly eminent and often
deemed inevitable.
2
On
recovery, the mind is not confused even though ample evidence suggests that it
should be. This is powerful and demands
explanation beyond the miraculous.
3
The
experience includes deceased relatives, real communication and an apparent
intermediary who clearly deals with the go, no go options available. This part of the experience is what is most
astonishing. This is a complex decision
mode that cannot be made up properly by anyone in crisis.
4
Lucid
dreaming could well be the form that this same process takes when death is not
an option. In my case I am certain my
lucid dream was solely to provide reassurance that there was a real empirical
basis for the so called after life. This
was provided in the one clear way that would allow me to correctly analyze the
experience.
5
Outright
miracles are also been enacted through this phenomena.
The take home is
extremely important. We all need to
accept this reality and pursue access when it becomes available. Use it to gather information and report what
you have learned. We need to gather as
many reports as possible as it appears to be particularly trustworthy.
Is this proof
near-death experiences ARE real? Extraordinary new book by intensive care nurse
reveals dramatic evidence she says should banish our fear of dying
PUBLISHED: 01:36 GMT, 25 January 2014
The Ascent of the Blessed, detail from a panel of an
alterpiece of the Last Judgement. Historic texts are filled with accounts of
near-death visions. Are they to be ignored so readily?
As a nurse, I’m always cheered when I see a patient
who appears to be making a good recovery. That certainly seemed the case with
60-year-old Tom Kennard, who’d been suffering from sepsis after surgery for
cancer.
After a couple weeks in the intensive care ward, he
was well enough to be moved from his hospital bed to a chair. Moments later,
however, he suddenly slumped into unconsciousness.
There was no doubt at all that he was out cold. He
responded neither to my urgent questions nor to the painful pressure of my Biro
on his fingernails.
Worse still, his skin became clammy, his oxygen
levels dropped and his blood pressure plummeted
— clear signs that his condition had become critical.
As I quickly gave him extra oxygen, I called out to
the other nurses in the intensive care unit. Four of them immediately flocked
to Tom’s bedside, and we gently helped return him to his bed as we called for a
doctor urgently.
He was still unresponsive when the doctor arrived,
followed a few minutes later by a consultant.
Yet, during those three lost hours, he had
apparently gone on a life-changing journey. His first sensation, he told me
afterwards, was of ‘floating upwards to the top of the room. I looked down and
I could see my body on the bed. It was lovely, so peaceful — and no pain at
all.’
In the next moment, the hospital ward had
disappeared and he’d entered a pink room, in which his father was standing next
to a man with ‘long black scruffy hair and nice eyes.’ For a time, Tom talked
telepathically with his father.
At some point, he became aware that something was
touching him. Once again, he was back on the hospital ward ceiling — looking
down at me and the doctor.
I was putting a lollipop-shaped instrument into his
mouth to clean it, he recalled later.
He could also see a woman beyond the cubicle
curtains, who kept twitching them to check on
his condition.
Indeed, I can personally verify that everything
Tom ‘saw’ while unconscious was 100 per cent accurate — down to the swab I used
to moisten his mouth and the names of the consultant and of the physiotherapist
lurking behind the curtains.
While all this was going on, Tom heard the man with
the scruffy hair say: ‘He’s got to go back.’ This came as a blow: he remembers
desperately wanting to stay.
Shortly after that, he told me, ‘I was floating
backwards and went back into my body on the bed.’
His pain was excruciating, but he could still
vividly recall how peaceful he had felt in that pink room. ‘Pen,’ he told me,
‘if that’s death, it’s wonderful.’
This near-death experience had two significant
effects on his life. First, Tom says, it completely removed any fear of dying.
Even more extraordinary is what happened to his
right hand, which had been frozen since birth into a claw-like position.
(This had been noted on his hospital admission form,
and his sister has since signed a statement confirming it.)
Yet, in front of me, soon after his near-death
experience, Tom opened and flexed that same hand. This should not have been physiologically possible,
as the tendons had permanently contracted. What had caused this sudden,
seemingly spontaneous healing? Even now, science has no answers.
But when you study near-death experiences, as I have
for the past couple of decades, you grow used to phenomena that defy all
rational explanation.
Take, for instance, the case of Fred Williams, a
Swansea pensioner in his 70s who was suffering from the final stages of a
terminal heart problem.
One night in hospital, he lost consciousness and we
feared he was about to die.
But he somehow managed to keep his faltering grip on
life. And when he eventually came to, I noticed at once that he looked very
happy. My colleagues also remarked on this.
All the time this was happening, I felt fine: full of joy, peaceful, gently floating towards brilliant light.
By the following morning, Fred had recovered
sufficiently to see his anxious relatives.
To their astonishment, he told them that he’d been
visited — while unconscious — by his mother and grandmother, both of whom were
dead, as well as by his (living) sister. They’d just stood by his bedside,
keeping vigil. ‘I couldn’t understand why my sister was there as
well,’ he remarked.
Unknown to him, his sister had actually died the
week before.
Fearing the news might jeopardise his recovery, his
family had kept it from him. Poor Fred never learned the truth, and died a week
later.
But possibly the most extraordinary case I know of
personally is that of a Moroccan woman in her late 30s, who ran a clothes
business.
In November 2009, Rajaa Benamour had an anaesthetic
injection for minor surgery, after which she found herself mentally
scrolling through her entire life, right back to her birth. This was followed
by what she could only describe as a rapid review of the creation of the
universe. After being discharged from hospital, she started trying to find
books about what she’d learned during her vision.
Eventually, she realised that she had somehow
acquired an in-depth understanding of quantum physics — despite never having
previously known anything about the subject.
This motivated her to study the subject at
university level.
The professor in charge of her studies was
astounded. The knowledge she’d already acquired, he said, could not have come
either from studying student textbooks or taking a quick course.
Stranger still, he was puzzled by some of her
scientific theories — yet they’ve since been confirmed by papers published
in physics journals.
As a staff nurse who’s worked in intensive care at
British hospitals for 17 years, I’ve seen thousands of patients die.
Some were heavily drugged or hooked up to numerous
machines; many were no longer able to speak.
Back in 1995, I began to wonder: is death so
terrible that we must do everything in our power to delay it with powerful
drugs and machines? What is death, anyway? What happens when we die? Why are we
so afraid of it?
So I began reading about death — and eventually came
across the concept of near-death experiences, or NDEs. People who’d experienced
these strange and intense visions all seemed to be saying the same thing: death
is nothing to fear. Could they be right? My scientific training told me that
NDE’s were almost certain to be hallucinations. Or wishful thinking.
But, in the end, I decided to embark on a PhD on
near-death experiences, while continuing to work in intensive care.
I began my eight-year study as a cynic. But by the
time it ended, I was convinced that near-death experiences are a genuine
phenomenon.
So what exactly is a near-death experience? At its
simplest, it’s a clear and memorable vision that occurs when people are close
to death — though only a small percentage of us will have one.
Researchers now agree that each vision will contain
at least one of several recognized components, such as travelling down a tunnel
towards a bright light, meeting dead relatives, or having an out-of-body
experience.
As the person ‘leaves’ his body, he may hear a
buzzing, whistling, whirring or humming sound, or a click. Another common
component of NDEs is a beautiful garden with lush green grass and vividly
coloured flowers. There may be a stream or river in the background. Some people
enter the garden, while others reach a gate or barrier — and know that they’ll
die if they go through it.
Throughout an NDE, hearing and sight become more
acute, and awareness is heightened. Often, the experience has been described to
me as ‘realer than real’.
As oxygen levels reduce in the blood, the brain becomes increasingly disorientated, confused and disorganised.
Time ceases to have meaning. In many cases, it feels
as if the vision has lasted for hours though the person may have been
unconscious for only a few seconds or minutes. Sometimes, it feels as if time
speeds up; sometimes it goes slower.
After I started talking in public about my own work,
hundreds of NDE survivors started writing to me with their own personal tales —
and all of them had similar elements.
Far from being attention-seekers, most of the people
I interviewed had previously told only one or two people what had happened to
them.
Indeed, it’s often the case that people who’ve had
NDEs are afraid of being ridiculed or disbelieved. Some who’ve reported an NDE
have been misdiagnosed as having a psychiatric illness — often post-traumatic
stress. And I know of one woman who was told she had unresolved emotional
conflicts and ordered to take tranquilisers.
Yet NDEs are not a new phenomenon at all; they’ve
been reported throughout history.
They also feature in some of the greatest books in
history — including the Bible; The Republic, by the ancient Greek philosopher,
Plato; and the Tibetan Book of the Dead, an ancient religious text about the
interval between life and rebirth. It’s only in the past few decades, however,
that scientists have tried to discover what causes NDEs.
The most common theory is that they’re a quirk of
the brain when it’s starved of oxygen. But this now seems extremely unlikely.
As oxygen levels reduce in the blood, the brain
becomes increasingly disorientated, confused and disorganised. I’ve witnessed
this happening many times. And I can assure you that when most patients
regain consciousness, they’re usually dazed and bewildered.
This is in
complete contrast to those who’ve had an NDE.
With great clarity, they report structured
experiences that, in many cases, remain vivid in their minds for decades. In
other words, not at all what one would expect from a disorganised brain with
greatly reduced blood flow.
In any case, if near-death experiences are due to
lack of oxygen, then all patients who had a cardiac arrest would have one.
In fact, they do seem more likely than anyone else
to have an NDE — but even in this group, the experience is comparatively rare.
In my own study, for instance, just 17.9 per cent of
people who survived a heart attack had been through an NDE.
Another nail in the oxygen theory is that two
patients in my own study actually had blood extracted at the time of their
near-death experience. Their oxygen levels were perfectly normal.
Could NDEs, instead, be a side-effect of high levels
of carbon dioxide in the blood, which can be another sign of approaching death?
Again, unlikely.
Although patients with high carbon dioxide levels
can have out-of-body experiences and feel euphoric, their muscles twitch and
jerk spasmodically while this is happening. That does not occur during a
near-death experience.
Are NDEs merely hallucinations caused by drugs?
Clearly not — as 20 per cent of the patients in my sample, including Tom
Kennard, had received no drugs at all.
Indeed, when I analysed my research, I found that
pain-killing and sedative drugs, particularly at high levels, seem to
make it less likely that a patient will have an NDE.
In other words, well-meaning doctors who over-sedate
dying patients may be denying them a natural and comforting final vision.
Furthermore, I also interviewed 12 patients who’d
had drug-induced hallucinations. These were random and often frightening — such
as being chased and stabbed with needles by drug dealers — but they bore
absolutely no relation to NDEs.
Another theory is that near-death experiences are
caused by endorphins, the opiates made by the body itself. But long-distance
runners have high levels of endorphins — and none of them have experiences
comparable to NDEs.
Moreover, if the body releases endorphins when we
die, you’d expect everyone close to death to have a near-death experience.
Nor is it at all likely that NDEs are merely a kind
of wish fulfilment, as it is sometimes suggested.
Well-meaning doctors who over-sedate dying patients
may be denying them a natural and comforting final vision
Most occur when a patient is taken ill unexpectedly,
rather than contemplating their own death — so the individual simply doesn’t have
time to think about what’s happening.
One thing is clear: research has shown that
near-death experiences often lead to a spiritual reappraisal.
Some people undoubtedly become more religious after
experiencing one — in a few cases even training for the priesthood.
Others feel that their particular religion no longer
adequately supports what was ‘revealed’ or felt during their NDE.
Regardless of what they believe, though, they
generally become more considerate of others.
Marie-Claire Hubert, a nurse who had an NDE when she
was hospitalised with meningitis, went through a tunnel and emerged to find
dead family members, former patients and even long-dead pets.
Now, she says: ‘I know for certain we do meet our
loved ones eventually. It’s made me a better person and I try to do at least
five kind things a day for other people.’
For some, their experience of what has been
described as ‘unconditional love’ makes them re-evaluate what they do with
their lives.
Quite a few have actually retrained to become nurses
or doctors or started doing voluntary work in a hospice.
Pam Williams from Swansea had an NDE when she
haemorrhaged after childbirth. While unconscious, she ‘saw’ a doctor bang on
her chest, breathe into her mouth and insert a needle into her heart.
‘All the time this was happening, I felt fine: full
of joy, peaceful, gently floating towards brilliant light.
‘Suddenly, in the distance, I heard my eldest
daughter shout, “Mam”. I remember thinking, ‘Oh dear, Jacquie needs me,’ and I
came back with a jolt.
‘I’m not a religious person but I [now] believe
there’s a warm, peaceful, beautiful place after death.’
At the time of her NDE, Pam was an uneducated
miner’s wife with four children. Afterwards, she says, she felt ‘a need to help
and support others’ — so she trained as a nurse and, ten years later, became a
sister on the coronary-care unit of a hospital in Sheffield.
Two lesser-known after-effects of NDEs — reported by
many researchers — are that some people develop a new sensitivity to
electricity or have problems with their wristwatches. Sometimes they don’t even
connect the fact that their watch can’t keep time — or stops altogether — with
what they’ve been through.
When I started asking the people I was researching
if they’d experienced this, I discovered that many had.
One was a nurse — a colleague who’d had an NDE — who
told me she’d stopped wearing watches after her own experience as they
invariably didn’t work.
Those who’d had particularly intense NDEs reported
even more problems. One woman told me that she ‘blows’ light bulbs regularly
when switching them on — so much so that this has become a standing joke in her
family.
‘I’ve also been thrown backwards and right across a
room several times when using or touching electrical appliances,’ she said.
Disturbing in a different way were accounts from
people who’d developed psychic tendencies after having a near-death experience.
One woman told me she could subsequently foresee ‘bad things’ that were going
to happen, and even predict when people were going to die.
This has so traumatised her that she now rarely goes
out — and then only when wearing headphones so that she can play loud music to
distract her from her thoughts.
A colleague of mine who had a NDE at nine years old
claims to have similar powers.
She says that ever since her vision, she’s been able
to ‘read other people’s minds’ — which distresses her because she feels it’s
morally wrong.
Can all these people — and the many more that I’ve
interviewed — be delusional?
Or could there be far more to approaching death than
scientists have ever acknowledged?
Some names have been changed. Extracted from
The Wisdom Of Near-Death Experiences by Dr Penny Sartori, to be published by
Watkins Publishing on February 6 at £10.99. © 2014 Dr Penny Sartori. To order a
copy for £9.99 (incl p&p) call 0844 472 4157.
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