My NDE Experience
Late summer, August it was, of 2018, I was admitted into the hospital for a surgery known as a Whipple Procedure, which would remove part of my pancreas, lower stomach, bile ducts and small intestine, while, at the same time, removing all of my duodenum and my gallbladder (if I had had one). The surgeon would then reconnect the new clean section of my small intestine to what remained of the pancreas, stomach, and bile ducts.
The average hospital stay was five to seven days, returning to normal daily activities in about 6-8 weeks, that is, if there were no complications, trouble having a chance of one in three. The survival rate for my specific type of the procedure was 39% with the average experienced surgeon.1 My specialist was to have performed these all the time and was known to have been “top notch”, giving me a huge boost in complete recovery. Though, I must say, he did inform me at our first consult that he lost a person the week before from this same surgery.
As I said, late August I entered the hospital for my procedure and it was performed. For a little over a week, maybe ten days, after the operation, I lay in the hospital, enveloped in a thick darkness I could not overcome. The Whipple Procedure had not gone as planned, to put it mildly; I won’t speak of the horrors of my entire hospital stay here though. My memories of that time only seem to be a split second of opening my eyes, seeing things without comprehending them, then closing my eyes again, only to fall back into that viscous darkness for an unknown period of time.
I won’t say with certainty, but I believe it was the third surgery when I found myself walking down a dark hall, at the end of which was a beautiful, shimmering luminescence. Silhouetted trees stood in front, and beyond the trees and radiance was some kind of open place I could not quite see. There is no way I can truly describe this light, as is reported by all who have seen it, but it shines white, yet has soft colors throughout, especially along the outer edges. And yes, it did seem and look to be living, but as you will see, I didn’t make it there, thus did not get to feel God in that light. How I still long for it all even now, these many years later.
As I was moving towards the light, I perked up and thought to myself, “Oh! I’m finally getting out of this darkness.” That’s when a sensation of a heavy weight falling off of me happened. It had been like a shell, enveloping my whole body. This new lightness of my existence became so nourishing I can’t tell you the relief I felt at having shed that burden; at the same time, the awareness of how tremendously crushing it was to live in the human body manifested, though I can’t say that even at this point I was truly aware I had died.
That’s when Jesus softly spoke over my left shoulder, “It’s not your time.” Despite what I would have expected out of myself, I surrendered with no verbal protest; though I must say, it was like my shoulders dropped a mile, and I know I had a pouty look on my face. Thankfully, the weighty encumbrance of the physical body did not come back until after I regained consciousness days later. I need to note here that this was the only time I heard His voice audibly, the rest of the time it was supersensory.
When I wondered why I couldn’t continue on to the light, Jesus gave me a vision of a beautiful, clear crystal butterfly. It flew up from the direction of the trees and hovered in front of me. It was probably 3 feet tall, literally crystal-clear, and colorless; it was at this point that Jesus let me know that I still had work to do on myself, that I was still a work in progress, if I may. But He had me look to my right and indicated I was going back for them also. In front of the trees (which were now on my right) were two more beautiful butterflies that resembled blue morphos; I knew this to be my husband and my daughter who was still at home. This was the point I re-entered the darkness, and I wouldn’t fully wake up from it until probably another 2 weeks later.
As far as proving that I had really died, I can say I have never seen this surgeon since the first time he operated on me, even for all the follow-up visits months after my dismissal from the hospital. So, no confirmation there. It was a tech who was setting up a bipap machine on me when I was given a room after the last emergency surgery. My husband asked him why I needed a machine to breathe for me and the tech told him to ask the doctor. Needless to say, my husband told the tech about their relationship and that he wouldn’t be able to get any info from the doc. The tech relented and said I had stopped breathing on the operating table, and they had a bit of a time to get me to start breathing again. It wasn’t until later that my husband and I compared notes, and I found out when I had met Jesus.
Due to certain other things that happened at the hospital, we had requested all the records from my stay. I went deep diving, looking for proof of my death. It was buried deep in two different places: there was one short note from the PA about my lung collapsing, and another note that showed my depleted oxygen level during that surgery.
I’m hoping that by sharing my experience, it will comfort you and your friends or family who are dealing with death. I didn’t get to enter into Heaven, but I did meet Jesus and felt the first release of this cumbersome earthly existence. I will tell you and anyone who meets me, I can not wait until God allows it to be “my time” and calls me home. So know that the life that awaits us, as Christians, is something that is worth working for as we shamble on this side.
©2024 Kelly L. Hartley
Kelly L. Hartley, a new author, writes Bible studies, devotions, fiction, and poems. She focuses on Bible contradictions for her “Spare Time Musings” on Substack. She’s a member of Ozark Chapter of American Christian Writers and Springfield Writer’s Guild. Social media: Substack, Twitter, Facebook, Instagram.
https://www.cancercenter.com/cancer-types/pancreatic-cancer/treatments/whipple-procedure