John K NDE

Experience Description

My late husband went through a couple of surgeries during his battle with cancer. The last surgery, he died on the table and was resuscitated. I didn't know that until we were in the post-surgery appointment with the surgeon.

My husband, John, told the doctor that he knew he had died. The doctor evaded and tried to say he didn't die. Then John pointed out the readings on the machines, the order around the table where each person in the operating room was standing, what they said, and other details. John's eyes were taped closed because it was a surgery on his neck/face. The surgeon looked down and sighed, saying, "There are things in this life that medicine cannot explain." He then admitted that John was right.

After that NDE, John said he felt that he walked around with one foot in each world. He could see when a person was injured. This particular woman, he could tell when she slipped at work and wanted to get up and walk. He told her that she had a hairline fracture in her leg. This was confirmed; he was right.

My husband and I both worked at the same place. He was an IT engineer. One time, when we walked out of the building, he glanced at the newspaper box and the headline said something about a local Oregon soldier being tortured and killed in Afghanistan. The soldier, whose name was Tim, started to talk to John by asking him to get a message to his mother. John told me about this and I asked him when and how he was going to find Tim's mom to tell her. He replied that he wasn't going to do it. He said he feared people would think he was crazy and lock him up and so I wrote her a letter.

At the same time, he put a post-it note on his cubicle wall with a number of 9.2. I asked what that was. He said it was because there is going to be an earthquake and that is how big it will be. He wasn't sure when or where, just that it was coming soon. On December 26, 2004, a magnitude 9.2 earthquake struck off the coast of Sumatra and killed hundreds of thousands of people.

He started to see things, like the Schwann's driver who was struck and killed 3 houses down from our house. He'd come inside and say that the driver was sitting on the curb and was waiting to be picked up, and that he didn't know he was dead. And more events like that.

A year passed. The phone rang and I picked up and it was Tim, the soldier's, mom. She told me she had just finally been able to read the mountains of letters she had received after Tim's death and found mine. She asked me if I thought John would talk to her. I said, "John, it's for you" and handed him the phone. They talked for a long time, with him finally passing along the messages as he recalled. They hung up, and John went outside for a walk to clear his head. He came back inside and said, "He's back. And he has another message." John called Tim's mom back and told her to go to the school where she had been the cook and Tim had been a boy. He said to go to their favorite swing and sit there. When she felt a breeze pass through her, that would be him. She called John back about a week later and told him she had done that very thing and how grateful she was.

My John's cancer took him from me in 2009. I sit here typing and crying because I miss him so. His experience gives me great hope and assurance that when I go, he waits for me.

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