I remember suddenly being fully aware and conscious, lacking any dreamlike quality.  I remember a feeling of peace, and floating in a “blackness” that was somehow light. 

I remember being aware for what seemed like a moment, then a voice, singing, having a tone and melody in its speech, sang, “He's letting go, he wants to let go.”

A “force” (I do not know how else to describe it; I am literally incapable of describing it) then said something I perceived with overwhelming magnitude and power, in a synesthetic manner that shot through me, that I heard, tasted, smelled, saw, somehow felt, all at once with an all-consuming will: “He isn't finished yet.”

My next perception was suddenly waking up in the ICU, and I remember looking out the window, seeing the cruise ship smoke stacks (TGH is located directly across from Tampa's port), the other downtown buildings, the rough cotton hospital blanket, and seeing a surprised looking nurse run out of the room, before a doctor came in.

The following four months were spent in the hospital, where I was informed I was approved for a transplant and a suitable donor was located.  I left the hospital weighing 114 pounds.  I am a six-foot two-inch man.  My health steadily improved over the following years.  I was too weak to turn over in bed when I left the hospital, and now I am a healthy weight and in good condition.

 I believe that after I died, I heard God speak.  For the first two years after I came back there was a period of mental chaos and dullness, but now I feel, in fewer words, almost “Enlightened” in some way. I genuinely do not fear death in a way that almost scares me.  The thought came into my head one day, unbidden and apropos of nothing, that I somehow knew with certainty was true: “Death is irrelevant.”  The thought genuinely scared me because it seems so odd.  I certainly have no desire to die; quite the opposite.

I feel like I somehow “sense truth” now in a way I cannot articulate.  I cannot even fully put into words what it is I am sensing, but it is there, I cannot deny it, and it is growing in some way.  I see everything in my life in a different light, and now I am irrevocably changed from who I was before all this happened to me. 

I was told by the doctors that I would need lifelong support to control my drinking urges, and that a major reason for graft failure was drinking. Also, they wanted to put me on SSRI's to help manage the trauma of the experience. After a year or so, I simply told my doctor I didn't want them anymore, and tapered off.  The feeling of clarity and peace has grown more intense.  Furthermore, my addiction fell away from me like a lead weight after the experience.  I have never had an urge to drink again. 

I feel like everything in my life is falling into place, and seemingly disparate threads are connecting somehow.  I would not wish the agony of what I went through on anyone, but now I consider it the most important experience of my life.