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Vicky
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I had this at Linn's site and was asked to copy and paste here. Yes, gladly. Thanks for asking, Alysia!
This is one of my most powerful paranormal experiences. Looking back, I'd say that this is the one that kick-started me into my search. The events surrounding it are many and long to tell. So I will just stick to the main portion.
So what I wanted to share here, happened in 1996. My son was 8 months old. I had been coughing very hard for the past two months but I had no other symptoms. One day at work I heard a voice in my head that I knew was not my own thoughts. It said simply, "You have a tumor. It is centrally located". I had had no previous experience with hearing voices and I didn't know what to think or what to do. I wish I had gone to see my doctor, but I didn't. I heard the voice say the same thing each day for about a month.
Then one night as we had been sleeping in bed, my husband and I were both awakened to a strange sound. We just lay there for several moments trying to figure out what it was. My husband said he thought it might be the baby crying. We did have a baby monitor in our room, but our son had never cried at night before. In all his 8 months he always slept through the night.
My husband got up to go check, and I started to get up too, but as soon as I sat up in bed the cough began again. This time it was very, very hard and after a minute I could hardly breathe. I made it to the kitchen to try to drink something but by now I was hyperventilating. My husband had changed the baby and offered him a bottle, but the baby was already falling back asleep. I waved my husband on to go back to bed, as I went into the bathroom. The next thing I remember is a huge amount of blood coming out of my mouth. It was actually a relief and I was able to breathe well enough to scream. My husband came running in, and a minute later I coughed up another huge amount of blood. The coughing would start up again and trigger more blood to come up, and I could not stop this process.
By the time we reached the ER, the coughing had stopped. The ER doc shook his head as I told him what had happened. He showed me the initial x-ray which showed my lungs had been filled with blood, and one side was still filled. He asked me if I was sure I had been laying down asleep, because it should be impossible for my lungs to be filled with blood and that I could wake up, sit up, and cough it up. I told him I was indeed laying down asleep. He said if I hadn't gotten up when I did, I wouldn't have lived much longer. It would have been impossible. He wanted to know how I woke up anyway. I told him the baby had cried, for the first time! We all knew that something amazing had taken place, not just a coincidence.
But I was in a lot of shock when he told me I needed surgery. He said I had developed a huge tumor inside the lower lobe of my left lung, and it had broken open a blood vessel that had been slowly bleeding. Finally my lungs had filled. I was devastated, scared to death, and finally realized the voice had been right after all. I didn't know if it meant cancer or if I would die during surgery. Would this be the end of my life? As my husband left the room to cry (he couldn't cry in front of me), I was actually happy to be left alone for a moment. In my mind I started to pray.
"God, I don't want to die. I'm not ready yet. I have too much to do still, and I don't want to do it in another life, I want to do it in this lifetime. I want to raise my son, and I want to have a daughter one day. There are so many people I want to still meet, so many things I want to do in life, and so many things I still want to learn. Please don't let me die. If it is in your plan for me to die now, I can accept that with open arms. But if I have any say in the matter at all, I want to live! Please, just let me know if I am going to die. I just don't want it to be a surprise. Just let me know."
I looked at my baby sitting there still strapped in his car seat on the floor of the ER room. I cried so hard to see his sweet little happy face looking at me. What if this was the last time I got to see him? He would grow up never having known me.
Before my surgery there was a lot going on, family coming in, me meeting with the surgeon, nurses coming and going. But then one man in particular stood out. He came into my room in the midst of all this chaos, dressed in plain clothes, no name tag, nothing to signify that he worked at the hospital. He said his name was Luis. He asked if he could say a prayer with me. I accepted it, and he came and sat on my bedside. He was very soft spoken and his disposition was extremely kind. It felt good just to be next to him, as if he exuded kindness and love. He said he wanted to tell me that my surgery would go fine, and that I had nothing to worry about. I smiled and thanked him, but in my heart I thought he was just a nice man who wanted to make me feel good. I didn't believe him. How could he know?
During the hours leading up to my surgery, Luis walked in now and then just to comfort me. I never questioned who he was, and no one else did either. We just accepted him as a caring hospital worker whose job it was to counsel/console patients. I thought that this is the kind of treatment you get when your situation is really bad, so his presence never struck me as unusual. One of his stories to me was that there was a young woman who he had just recently helped, who was here to have her leg amputated. He told her it would not be necessary to amputate, that her leg would be saved. When it came time for surgery, the doctors discovered it was not necessary and she could keep her leg.
His story was comforting to me, but mostly only because of his loving demeanor. What difference did it make to me if he was right about some girl's leg? How was that supposed to make me feel better? He kept reminding me that he was right about my surgery, that it would go fine and that I would come out of it okay. I still didn't believe him. It wasn't that I was sure I would die, I just didn't believe that he could be so darn sure I would live.
Another of his stories was him telling me that he used to be a boxer "when I was younger", he had said. I grinned as I thought, how old does he think he is? He only looked maybe in his 20s, certainly no more than 30! He explained that he didn't run his life very well back then, that he didn't take care of himself, and that he had been filled with anger a lot. Then one day it all changed. He said that he had realized God loved him, and he wanted to change his life and be a better person.
What a nice story, I thought. Good for him. But I was not a religious person, so I thought, what am I supposed to get out of this? That's nice for him that he changed his life, but I already know that I run a good life. I already have my own personal belief in God and know that I am looked after. Still, Luis was so gentle and kind that he could have sat there reading the phone book to me. I didn't care what he said, I just loved his presence!
It happened that my surgery would not be able to take place until morning, and I was afraid to go to sleep! What if the same thing happened? Luis came in for one more stop before I was to go to sleep. He said he wanted to explain to me what to expect in the morning so that I would feel more assured. He still tried to assure me that everything would be okay, and that I had no reason to worry.
He said, "Okay, your husband will want to be here by 6:30 a.m. but he will be running late, and with the baby and all, he won't get here until just past 7:00. Your brother and sister-in-law will be here shortly after that, and your parents by 7:30". Luis rattled off other details about my family and what my morning would be like, and I guess I just sat there with a weird look on my face. How did he know all this? It still didn't occur to me that anything out of the ordinary was going on here. But he was right. Everything happened exactly like he had outlined, and as each thing unfolded I kept being reminded of his exactness of it all. I knew it was strange, but I had no idea how he knew it all.
My surgery did go fine, there was no cancer, and a couple days later I was doing well enough to have my own private room. The nurses had been checking my vitals every hour and rotating me. Finally by maybe the third night, I think, my nurse told me that I was doing very well and that I would be allowed to sleep the whole night through without someone checking on me. I looked forward to some real sleep. My nurse said if I needed anything I could just buzz her, but otherwise she would leave my door shut and make sure I had an undisturbed night.
Well, I had slept so good that by 2:30 in the morning I woke up wide awake. I felt completely refreshed and not sleepy at all. Looking at the clock, I knew that a nurse wouldn't be coming in until 7:00. I actually missed all the checkups and attention I had been getting. But I didn't want to buzz her in just because I wanted company, and I knew it was not possible to have visitors. Besides, I didn't want to call my family and wake them. I actually felt very well, and I wasn't even thinking about my surgery at all. But I wished I had company. Then it occurred to me, how much I wished I could see that nice young man who was so kind to me. Suddenly, something was happening in my room. There was golden light, different from the soft lighting from my room (one soft light was left on across the room), and from out of nowhere Luis was suddenly standing just a few feet from my bed! I was not startled at all, but very ecstatic. I said, "It's you! You're here!"
He was standing there in that soft golden glow, with his arms at his sides, and one hand atop the other in front of him. He was smiling so gently and he looked so peaceful. He said, "I'm always here for you, Vicky".
ME: "I was just thinking about you!" (I was exuberant and never felt so much love and joy in my life. I thought I must be looking at an angel. My dad was right, there are angels!)
LUIS: Do you remember before your surgery that I told you everything would be okay, and it was?
ME: Yes.
LUIS: I told you you'd be fine, and you were.
ME: Yes, I remember.
LUIS: I came to tell you that you would be fine, and you were.
ME: I know. I didn't believe you. (I wondered why he kept persisting with this).
LUIS: You wanted to know if you were going to die, and it was my job to tell you that you weren't. And you didn't die. But you didn't believe me. Now I am here to tell you that it was my job to come to you, and it was my job to tell you that you wouldn't die.
ME: Thank you. (I finally understood).
Finally, at that moment, I realized what his persistence was all about. I had completely forgotten about my prayer! I had forgotten that I had begged God to let me know if I was going to die or not. But that had been inside my head, and I hadn't told anyone. And here Luis had just popped into my room out of thin air to tell me that it was his job to tell me I wasn't going to die. It was his job! What did that mean? I asked God a question and he sent Luis to deliver the message?
I was so surprised and shocked by this point that I would love to have seen the look on my face.
Luis came over, sat on the side of the bed, and said another prayer with me. Now, looking directly into his face, I realized the magnitude of what was happening. The joy, love, and kindness that emanated from him was unbelievable. I wish I had had the presence of mind to ask him a billion questions, but I didn't. I was in so much awe. I was so overjoyed that I was loved enough to receive such an incredible experience, to have my question answered in such a wonderful way. I hadn't even expected a real answer to my prayer, just that I'd end up safe and able to live my life.
I don't remember Luis leaving my room that night. The next thing I remember was waking up the next morning. I wanted to shout to the world what had happened, but I didn't. I hardly understood how it was even possible, and I knew no one would believe me.
Over the years I've often asked why I don't get to see him again. If he can just appear like he did back then, why can't he do it again? There have been some times where I've been so sad, depressed, or whatever where I've wished Luis could come to me and make me feel better, where I've wished that he would just come and comfort me, or talk to me, or let me ask all my questions.
It took several years for me to stop pouting about why I can't just have him again, just see him again, and feel him again. I finally realized that just because I don't have another experience like that one doesn't mean he has left me. I remind myself of his words, "I'm always here for you, Vicky". And each time I re-live that experience in my mind, I know that I do feel him, even if I can't see him.
Love,
Vicky
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