Most military medical emergency rooms have you take a number, take a seat, and wait for your turn. But one look at me, and the navy nurse behind the counter ushered me directly into a treatment area. Within minutes there were three doctors poking, prodding, and pinching my fingernails. My respiration was raspy and my lips were apparently blue. One of the doctors, flanked by two nurses, touched my left forearm and leaned forward saying, “Son, we are going to find out what is wrong with you.” To which I replied, “I think you will discover I have the Swine Flu sir.” All three medical professionals took a giant step back, recoiling as if I were contagious.
The doctor leaned forward, still keeping his distance, and asked if I was on base in December?
“Yes sir, over on recruit training side.”
“So you got the shot?”—which you can read more of the specifics and background about in my book, Life After Heaven.
“Were you transferred here to the hospital?”
“No sir, I was in the dispensary overnight on the recruit training side.”
“And you have been sick ever since?”
“Yes sir, but not this sick.”
He turned to the nurses and started barking all kinds of orders. “Start an IV. Pull blood samples. I want a full series. I want a chest X-ray and an EKG. I want arterial blood gases. I want to know what his P02 counts are.”
Forty-five minutes later, a different navy nurse strides in with a syringe in her hand. She had medication drawn into the syringe to deal with the Swine Flu. Ironically, Electric Light Orchestra’s hit song “Evil Woman” was playing on the radio as she inserted the needle into my IV tube.
“This will fix you right up,” she said, as she depressed the plunger down.
What came next happened about as fast as it takes to read this. My right arm got really hot, from the IV down into my fingertips, then the heat rose to my wrist and elbow. When the fire got to my armpit, everything went black.
I did not know I was allergic to Aminophylline, neither did they. And they just administered a lethal dose directly into my bloodstream.
I woke up five weeks later, physically a fraction of myself. I lay in the bed of the intensive care isolation unit of Great Lakes Regional Medical Center, having lost sixty-nine pounds—almost one-third of my total body weight.
It took me ten years to fully recover and another ten to fully understand what happened to me—and more importantly why. I learned at a great cost about the sovereignty of my Father God. I am hoping to help you understand His sovereignty in a much shorter time period.
If you have had a near-death experience, my deepest hope is that we can continue the dialog offline. One reason my death is worth living for is to help you with a faster integration of what happened to you and why. So, if you have an experience like mine, please use the contact form and get in touch!
Steve digs deeper into the emotional facet of the Kingdom of Heaven with a young screenwriter who experienced a Bubble of the Kingdom of Heaven for the first time.