My Rapture!
By
YoonOk Kim, Ph.D.
SMASHWORDS EDITION
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PUBLISHED BY:
YoonOk Kim, Ph.D. on Smashwords
Copyright © 2011 by YoonOk Kim, Ph.D.
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My Rupture that Rapture!
Four years ago~~~I had my near-death from the subarachnoid brain hemorrhage. For the past four years, I did not want to look at the most crucial and life threatening moment. I just do not want to talk about it. So, I've tried to avoid talking about those crucial and life threatening moments as much as possible.
During my healing journey, the gift of my sickness is to learn to connect to the soil~~~mother earth. I am on my knees in my garden with my feet and my two hands, like roots, connecting with the warmth of the mother soil. Now, I am ready to look back on my near-death from brain aneurysm rupture.
On February 23, 2007, I woke up in the critical ICU at Albany Medical Center due to a brain aneurysm rupture. I vaguely remembered I had terrible headache during my lunch break at a restaurant. I was with my co-worker, Erin, and collapsed the day before on February 22, 2007.
I did not realize what had happened to me, or what was wrong with me. My memories from inside of me were like many broken bits of a glass mirror. Not coherent, but scattered here and there.
~~~over here and over there.
I am now grabbing fragmented or broken mirror parts to learn the importance of my life.
To seek the root of me!
To seek the root of my origin!
To seek the root of our origin!
With my feet and my two hands, like roots, the mother soil awakens me to connect with my inner-soul and those bits and pieces. Each pieces contained different memories, and in order to put them together, I needed special glue—something that I called, “Soul-Soil Glue” from Mother earth’s Love.
~~~from the soil.
~~~from the Mother heart.
I gather broken bits of glass mirror to see the whole picture of my life.
This is to seek to understand the root.
One broken piece of glass tells me that there is one gentleman, who told me with genuine voice,
“You will be fine. We called 911, and they will be here shortly. You will be fine.”
I want to say, “Yes, I will be fine. I will be OK!”, but it never come out of my mouth into the real physical realm.
It's evident that he has the most sincere and genuine voice, but my broken memory tells me that I am lying comfortably on the room floor with some cushions around me to help me to bring the feeling of ease and comfort.
I also hear Erin’s voice, but strangely, it is not in the restaurant.
I suppose to be in the restaurant, isn’t it?
Where am I?
How come I am in the room, not in the restaurant?
I know I am sweating with soaking wet.
~~~My back felt like I just come out of the shower.
~~~soaking wet, from the sweating shower.
I know I vomited everything I had in my stomach during and after collapsing.
But, Where am I?
I am lying comfortably on the room floor, and the gentleman is talking to me to ease my mind.
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I later asked Erin whether I was the room floor lying before ambulance came or it was really only an illusion. Erin explained that once I collapsed, that gentleman and people working in the restaurant moved me to the restaurant room so that I lay on my back for better breathing in a stable and relaxed position. Erin thought that that gentleman seemed a medical doctor who knew what he was doing.
He shouted to call emergency and instantly suggested to transfer me to the restaurant room. He immediately unbuttoned my clothes for better breathing and ordered people how to hold my collapsed body. With his order, the restaurant people and that gentleman moved my collapsed body.
Erin did not know him, and I still do not know who that gentleman was to help me on the most critical time of my life.