For those who have been concerned, I'm alive. I was dead. This is true. It was three days before they had any idea if they could save me. I, myself, wasn't exactly present. Where I was was some alternate reality in which I would swear on a Bible that Doctor Who is not only real, but was one of my doctors. Disguising himself quite wonderfully as a Hobbit, he was, in fact, my primary doctor. There were also discussions of mutants and mutant dogs and better ways of designing superior mutant dogs, and why the bonding and pride of ownership was far better if you had designed your own mutant dog. There were other matters concerned as well. But these were private discussions taking place around me when no one was aware I could hear. There were other events which took place involving Delhi and Bombay and most of the Indian and Sikh population or Amarillo. It was very mystical, and I've come to understand intimately PK Dick's mental aberrations. There was also a Vietnamese girl involved who I found incredibly attractive and would dearly have wished that she see me in any condition but the one which had me mostly naked with strange tubes going in and out of my body carrying strange fluids in and out and doing things I never knew COULD be done, much less SHOULD be done. I did manage to convey to hey my belief that she was exceptionally beautiful. Not a joke, folks, not creative writing. I was dead and they were fighting to bring me back to life while my mind was undergoing some sort of strange, mystic experience which I still don't understand. All those strange experiences and mysteries involving other cultures, and behaviors within those cultures which may or may not have been right or wrong did happen. There were things I saw which I know were real because others were commenting on them, and if you had seen some of these things taking place in the CCU, where I did, your mind would be troubled as well. Aside from the few beautiful Asian women, none of these experiences were from my culture at all. The Vietnamese woman was named Huny. The other part Asian part Indian woman, who was also beautiful, had the name of a Goddess - Chandra. There was more to this than simply healing. They couldn't really say what went wrong with me. Let's say my precious bodily organs were hanging around with bad companions. First, my pancreas collapsed. There was pain. Immense pain, beyond description. Then my kidneys stopped functioning. Then my entire system simply collapsed into chaos. Nor can they really explain how they fixed me. But I'd bet if someone took a close look at this particular medical team, you would discover two things. They have a history of being willing to try alternative treatments. They have an impressive record of successes with these treatments. I'm not looking that hard, except at the strange mystical effects and why my after death experience should be tied in with Dr Who, Gordon's Gin and the culture of British India in the Victorian era.. I had my reasons for asking to be treated at that particular hospital. Part of that reason is that, as Baptist St Anthonys, they are more dedicated than most to healing people and treating them extremely well. As I AM still alive, though I have now walked on the other side of that gate, that, I think, justifies my choice of care. They are genuinely considered one of the best acute care hospitals in Texas. I'm not recovered. I'm still very weak. You would think I had never used my legs before they're so weak, tired and sore.

Not quite sure what to say, except welcome back. And here's hoping you get to stay awhile... sounds like a wild ride, that.

Wow Bonestructure.  That was some experience. I'm glad you're feeling better. Be sure & keep us updated.

I think everyone undergoes a transformation under these circumstances. Mine was a harrowing experience escaping Uncle Remus' Tar Baby who tried to suck me into his tar body and hide me in the brambles.  In any event, it is a life-altering thing when you do come back. Glad to hear you are ok.

glad to know you pulled thru o.k., bone.

Well, I've been left with some odd mental effects as yet, such as feeling that this IS February and I've lost or gained a month. Or waking up in the middle of the night and not recognizing that I'm in my own apartment. Why my near death experience should give me Dr Who to lead me into the mysterious world of Gordons Gin and British India, I have no clue as yet. Especially as I'm not a Dr Who fan, nor have I ever drunk or considered drinking Gordon's Gin. Something very odd for me is that for the last year, my main project has been reediting and recording my own personal music and converting it to MP3. I was working on a new piece, my first try at using effects I generated myself on a strange movie theme called Paranormal Effect, which creates the impression of ghostly sounds and voices behind a very odd musical composition. It seems very strangely ironic to me that I finished this piece maybe 2 days before I went into hospital. It's a long strange trip and it ain't over yet.