I've never had anything like MF describes--and nothing like the ones on the site you gave the link for--just a night when I was told by the docs in ICU that it was unlikely I'd live through the night and if I had any good-bys to say, I'd better do it now. There was no long, dark tunnel, other than the length of that night which I spent staring at a card my sons had sent with their father that read: "Hang in there, Mom" and pictured a kitten hanging precariously by one claw to a small twig. I stayed awake al night, afraid if I went to sleep I'd never wake up. I thought about a lot of things as those long, silent hours dragged by, punctuated only bu nurses coming in to take my vital signs, which remained vital. The main thing to come out of it was the realization that I wasn't ready to say good-by to my children and I wanted to be a good mother. As a result of that, when the ICU folks sent in a psychiatric consult a few days later and he diagnosed me for the third time with bipolar, I agreed to take meds and have stayed on them ever since. Meds didn't make me a perfect mother, but they went a long way toward changing my life.
I was newly divorced, newly sober and newly disabled. The nextt year or so was pretty rough, but a lot of what got me out of bed every morning was the hope I'd have another chance at being a good parent to my boys.
Pretty soggy, I know, but that's the closest I've come to an NDE and it had a profound effect on my life.
