What I’ve Learned Since I Flatlined 3 Years Ago
The good, the bad, and the funny.
Looking back, I probably could have tried less dramatic things to get out of visiting my in-laws — but then again, I have never been afraid to go big. So, instead of getting up at dark-thirty to go to the airport, I went into respiratory failure.
It was the middle of August 2017, a week after my 36th birthday and five years into my battle with ALS, that we had a life changing experience. My wife was four months pregnant with our first child. We were just your average young couple, living in sin together (we weren’t even married yet) in my parents’ house while dealing with a terminal disease.
I had to wear a breathing device, very similar to a CPAP, for most of the day and every night. Although the details are a little fuzzy, I remember the barrage of alarms coming from the machine. If those weren’t a clear enough indicator that something was very wrong, there was the blood dripping from my nose. My wife got my mom and told her that we should probably call 911. Although they were both scared, their lack of medical knowledge probably helped them stay relatively calm until the paramedics arrived.
I don’t remember anything from the ambulance ride to the hospital. That’s probably because I flatlined. I died. Albeit briefly, it was long…
