Morbid facination? Perhaps - perhaps not.

[Guest guest]

This is what I posted on ndsregarding one of my brief dances with

death.

--

 

I have had many experiences with death. One in particular I would

like to share - at least in story - with you. The death was mine.

Rather, I should say, the near, no the kinda' close death was mine.

 

So gather 'round the campfire kiddies. Toast some marshmallows and

make some s'mores. Get comfy, the story isn't too long. Ready?

 

Back in the spring 1972 I was a handsome young lad of 23. I had been

discharged from the Navy a little less than a year. I was fit,

fiesty and always ready for fun. Still am, sorta! I lived in

Silverton, OR, a quiet little farming community about an hour

South of Portland.

 

That spring I took employment at one of the nearby food processing

plants, Birdseye it was. My job consisting of pulling trays of

frozen packaged green beans from these giant fast frezzers and

flipping the trays upside down on a conveyer belt where the packs of

bean would be whisked away for boxing.

 

The work was mundane, repetitive, boring, mind numbing....yada, yada,

yada, you get the idea. Little did I know that death was lurking,

patiently waiting for the slightest opportunity the smallest opening

to dance me around. That it did.

 

The freezers looked like giant frost covered igloos all lined

up in a row. They were aged ammonia based machines that had a thick

covering of frost due to the many leaks. The leaks were only

partially sealed by the frost. No, don't jump ahead thinking that

there was some sort of major gas leak or explosion. Death wasn't a

show off that day.

 

No, death was like a sneak thief, a pickpocket, a cat burgler.

 

That morning at some point either before leaving my digs, on the way

to work, or at work I scraped the knuckles of my left hand. It was a

tiny scrape barely noticeable. One that when discovered you say to

yourself, "How'd that happen?" That was death's opening.

 

During that morning's work I started to feel a bit light headed. The

smell of ammonia was stronger that day than usual. I pulled off my

gloves to take a short break. I noticed that the little scrape was

turning an angry red. There was the barest hint of a stream of red

that had moved from the scrape up my hand.

 

Yes, it was blood poisoning, kiddies. But wait for it, don't jump

ahead. Are those s'mores ready yet? I'll have one. Thanks, yummy!

 

Anyway. I went to my foreman and showed him the scrape. He barely

gave it a glance, looked at my smiling face and said to get back to

work. I insisted that I needed to go to a doctor but he was

reluctant to let me go. One of the senior women working there

backed me up and I was allowed to go to the nearby clinic.

 

As I walked out to the parking lot I started to lose contact with my

body. I knew that I was likely very near death. But, it felt so good!

I was floating. The air was like wine. The light was crystaline. I

was suffused with pure peace and joy. I undoubtedly was smiling

like a complete and utter fool!

 

I barely remember the short drive to the clinic. Once there, the

doctor met me at the door. After briefly questioning me he stuck his

fingers in my left armpit. Yeow! My body jumped from the pain. I was

still high and floating, mind you. The body felt the pain from the

swollen lymph glands but, I didn't.

 

The doctor immediately administered an injection and had me take some

pills. Then he kept me under close observation for half an hour.

 

The doctor told me later that I was a mere fifteen minutes away from

death. But kiddies, it felt so GOOD! So, eat, drink, and be

compassionate for soon we shall be merry enough!

 

HAHAHAH and HOHOHO!

 

Peace - this is a true story - Michael