Clinically Dead — a reply to a friend’s blog post…

A very good friend of mine has had a very rough health experience this past few years. He and I met through a post I wrote in a Bass Players forum looking for a bassist for my band. He called me on my cell, seems that we had common friends and he got my number from them, and from the first 3 minutes we both knew we were going to be close friends.

We have both experienced the same form of cancer — although they found his a year earlier and it had progressed beyond where mine was. After I was told the results of my tests, I decided that I would like to lead by example and post about my cancer, encouraging men of all ages to get tested and examined before it was too late. Very soon after that Facebook post, he was one of the first friends who called to talk, and we talked a lot and it definitely gave me some comfort as well as learn about the after effects from someone close who was going through it as well.

Back in December, he had a life changing event.

Death is definitely a life changing event.

He quite literally died in his hospital bed, as the doctors were draining blood from his chest cavity that was the result of an error by one of the surgeons just a couple weeks earlier. He was dead for 8 minutes, as the medical people worked frantically to revive him, his wife and daughter watched just a few feet away. They were successful in bringing him back, but he has been going through some stuff since then…

He is documenting his experiences on his personal blog, describing the experience of death from his perspective and it is a story to be sure. And after being brought back, the feelings of guilt, sadness, emotional loss of direction, shame even… they have been overwhelming. I wont recount his experiences — they are his and his alone. A 3rd party recounting wouldn’t do the telling any justice.

His most recent blog post though is more uplifting — he has noted that some of his behaviors and needs to be perfect have been relieved of him but in a subconscious way. To revel in the experience of the moment is something he has never really experienced before, to feel the joy of just playing his bass along with favorite music and not focus on mistakes but just live in the music itself. To write software code that he hasn’t done in a very long time and not just enjoy the experience but really thrive and complete a significant part of a project successfully. And he is questioning if this is a change because of some physical effect of being dead for 8 minutes, or if its a more existential thing where your reference point for living has changed?

I replied to his post. Below is what I started to write but I realized as I got to the end of this thing that it was like a confessional to benefit me, instead of supporting him in his struggle to get a grip on things:

“Traumatic events — I’ve had or been a party to many more than I could ever have imagined — change you for both good and bad. I can say after my best friend died on my motorcycle, and my parents were told it was me (he wasn’t carrying ID at that moment), and then I was asked to go to the ER to identify him… well, I did something I never thought I would have been the one to do. I touched him there on the gurney… and then after getting home I started calling our mutual friends to tell them the bad news. I felt it was my responsibility to do this — up to that moment, I really never took responsibility for anything but this somehow was my fault for lending him my bike. I can honestly say though, that something in me died that day and I can’t really put my finger on it, but the light of the world seemed a little dimmer, colors are more muted, feelings and in particular love, joy, affection, etc are far less intense than they used to be. Living is less than it was…

I know the circumstances are far different from what you have and are experiencing — but reading what you write it almost seems like you’re describing the same effect. I dont think it’s PTSD, it’s just a changed condition of life that I’ve never been able to shake, and to an extent in moments of risk and danger I’ve had to think more deeply of the repercussions to my family for me and us to be safe rather than any singular fear for myself.

For months after my friend died, I would come home from work to my apartment and go through the motions of making dinner and then just sit on the sofa sometimes staring at the window or the ceiling for 30 minutes or more and not feel anything. You know something is wrong with it, but you have no desire or compulsion to change what you’re doing.

I think that is why I decided to fill the empty spaces with activity — work far too much (when working), write and record music like my sanity depended on it, write a personal blog that is private to everyone except me, build instruments because I have to do something with my hands not related to a keyboard.

You and I have experienced cancer together — I really thank you for the conversations we had. But with everything you’ve said here I can completely relate except it has been 27 years since what I described above, where I have lived a life that I dont know if I really deserved to.”

I stopped here — I reconsidered my response and did a Ctrl-A, Ctrl-X to reset and do a pivot on what to say to him. I kept and am sharing here since I think it truly is important that I acknowledge to myself what I carry with me and how it changed my view of reality.

But here’s what I did write as a comment to his blog post:

I was going to write about grief and traumatic events — but it would seem trite given where you’re at right now. From what I’ve read, people who have been given a new chance at life feel all the same feelings you are. Guilt, sadness, a dimming of light and color, a feeling of needing to do a reset. You have every right to grieve your own death, its natural. But the removal of the feeling of needing to be perfect in what you are doing in the moment — that is a gift. Playing music for the sheer joy of playing and immersing in it — priceless. Coding and enjoying it because you can release this need to be above a certain skill bar you set for yourself over the years — treasure that. Being able to be vulnerable and let your feelings flow out of you — dont restrict that. I really wish I could consciously do all those things and just revel in being here, and you’re going to need to learn how to revel in life itself. Faith notwithstanding, you’ve gotten a view of what the meaning of life really is and how quickly it can pass.

My mom told me what the last thing my father said was before he died, and I think it sums up everything we should be trying to teach ourselves and our children and children’s children.

“I can’t believe it went so fast”

When you know its your last moments, and you’re able to see it that clearly, you realize that all these years are just a microslice of time in this universe. You are able to communicate that now to everyone — while we need money and certain possessions to live, when we die we take nothing with us except our experiences. And we can learn and teach this message to anyone willing to listen and learn.

Life is a gift. Live life.

If there is a purpose or an intention I could communicate to you, my dear reader, it is this:

Life is a gift. Live your life as if it will end sooner than you think. Because it will be too late when you do get to the end of life to experience the things you will find you wish you had done and experienced.

Thanks for reading. Writing this has been cathartic for me and I appreciate you taking the trip with me this time.