Leaving that world behind

A horror with a happy ending.

This is a repost of my very first Substack post. It’s been a year and a half since the fateful night recalled in the original post. I am thrilled to report that my partner is on the way to a full recovery.. The brain heals extremely slowly, but it heals.

It was bedtime on a typical New York winter’s night.

My partner and I were lying in a warm bed watching the Obama’s Netflix doomsday porn production “Leave the World Behind” (A foreboding title, as it would soon be revealed.)

She said her heart was racing and asked me to feel her chest. We both attributed the palpitations to anxiety caused by the fear-based mind control flick, and I said, “let’s just turn this crap off if it’s stressing you out.”

Seconds later, her head began to shake like the Tasmanian Devil and she excitedly started to vocalize something that clearly was not a decipherable language, as if she was possessed. It sounded like clips I’ve seen of zealots speaking in tongues. It was evident that she was trying desperately to tell me something urgent but had lost access to her language skills. My sweet love looked terrified, but was looking through me, not at me. The incoherent cries for help ceased after a few seconds and she stiffened up. Her eyes were wide open, and it was not clear to me if she was breathing. I’m no doctor, but I’m pretty sure not breathing is bad.

Her mouth was filled with her swollen and bloody tongue (We later discovered that she nearly bit it off) and she was stiff and silent. I yelled her name to see if there was any way to reach her, but she was not reachable. I moved her from her back to put her on her side, and moved her tongue so she could breathe. I called my 19-year-old son and not so calmly asked him to call 9-11 while I held her. “There are eight calls ahead of you"… the automated voice on the phone announced. (Your call is important to us) Fucking robots! OK, WTF!? Try another phone! He tried my phone and got through. Thank you, God. Now we wait. What am I supposed to do?! Is she dying? Should I do mouth-to-mouth resuscitation? Chest compression? Heimlich Maneuvers? I felt helpless. And clueless. And ashamed of my ignorance. I just held her. And prayed.

She continued in a state of a non-convulsive seizure for at least five minutes. She was staring into the abyss, fists clenched and at her chest, stiff. After a few very long minutes, she appeared to come out of the seizure and started… laughing! I felt a wave of relief wash through me. Maybe this was all just a bad joke that I was not in on, I thought, in my delusion of reprieve. But this was not her style. At all. She looked oddly, but truly happy and at peace when she was laughing but was far away from me. So far, in fact, that it seemed she may have entered another dimension. A place without pain and fear. As suddenly as the laughter began, it ended. Back to our realm. The one replete with pain and fear. She seized up once again. Foaming at the mouth. Was she breathing? Is her brain dying? Is she dying?

Another ten minutes of her being non-responsive until the ambulance arrives. Medics, cops, and various unidentified crew, one guy wearing a Santa cap and white beard, start filing into our bedroom. I counted ten altogether. Counting was calming somehow.

They put her on her stomach and started injecting her with something, and pumping things into her lungs. One EMT came over to me and asked me what meds she was on. I showed him her prescription vials. He took me aside and said, “You can tell me the truth. What else was she taking?”

“She only took what I showed you.”, I said. He was not buying it. “We’ll find out if she took something else, so you might as well tell me.”

“O.K. pal, I’m not Hunter Biden” I thought, but kept it to myself.

Tragically, I’m pretty sure the EMT’s see a lot of Fentanyl, Heroin and Cocaine overdoses these days. Everyone is trying to escape reality in some way or another.

They strap her to a stretcher and bring her downstairs to the waiting ambulance. She seizes again and they surround her and start working on her. I’m on my toes looking in the side window because there is no room in the ambulance. I can feel the nosey neighbors looking at us through their windows. I pray.

I arrive at the emergency room and my first sight of her is shocking. She is intubated, heavily sedated and unconscious. Her flesh is pallid and clammy.

“We had to increase her sedative to the maximum dose, because she was trying to pull the breathing tube out.”, the nurse said. “She’s feisty” I said. “Oh, we know.”

She is unconscious until 12:30 the next afternoon. They take her off the sedatives and extubate her as we stand waiting to see how much damage she sustained from the seizures. "Will she be able to speak?” “We don’t know yet.” Holy shit. Fucking Obama did this!

She slowly wakes from the dead and I can tell at once that though extremely weak, she did not lose her cognitive abilities.

“What happened?” She whispered. I told her some of the story, but I still was unsure of her diagnosis.

MRI’s, EEGs. CAT scans, and days of tests revealed that she had what is called a Cavernoma in her brain, and it hemorrhaged.

Cavernomas are abnormal blood vessels gathered into clusters or angiomas. Most likely, she was born this way. One in 200 people have them. Something caused it to bleed onto her brain, and apparently, the brain does not like blood on it. Technically, she had a hemorrhagic stroke, but we got lucky. It could have been much, much worse. Most people don’t make it. If she was alone, she would not be here right now. If she was driving…well, you get the idea.

We feel blessed that she has been given this gift of continued life.

More love to give and receive, more time to do good works in this dimension.

She is currently convalescing for the foreseeable future. The brain heals very slowly. The extreme trauma obviously caused some physical, emotional, and spiritual damage, but we are cautiously optimistic about her prognosis.

Pre-frontal lobe disinhibition is one of the effects she is experiencing. The upside to this is that I always know where I stand.

And I stand with her…

till we leave this world behin

d