I was in the hospital for a broken ankle bad enough it needed immediate surgery and I could not walk. I am also adrenal insufficienct but the hospital had not stress-dosed me for the injury. I ended up going into a coma, off and on, in and out, for three days.
At first, I was mostly out, in the dream-like place, in a room with no real walls or floor or ceiling, but I called it the waiting room. The room glowed with a bright light, but as bright as it was, it was a warm comforting light and not too bright or glaring. It felt safe and wonderful.
I was sitting in a reclining position, like in a zero gravity chair, but I felt no chair, no pressure points, and most of all, no pain.
My family and the nurses kept trying to wake me. I hated that they wouldn't leave me alone. I'd rouse a little and the pain would come back and I'd tell them in mumbling words that I just wanted to go back to sleep, to leave me alone.
I felt fantastic. I was happy, at peace, and felt wonderful. I felt loved and I was 'told' without any words that I could stay there as long as I wanted to and could come back any time that I wanted to come back. I didn't communicate with this voice, and I didn't 'hear' the voice exactly, but rather, I just knew what it wanted me to know and 'heard' what it said in my head.
The room I was in was non-descript, no paintings, no walls, no carpet, no floors, and yet, I still call it a 'room' for some reason. I call it the 'waiting room', but I don't know why or what it is waiting for.
Time meant nothing to me while I was there. I felt like I was there only moments, but I found out later that it was off and on for three days.
I don't remember why I decided to come back to 'life' but I do know very clearly that I CHOSE to live again and I didn't have to. I could have stayed in the waiting room longer if I wanted, but I didn't want to worry my family. They kept trying to 'wake' me and it was upsetting me because they kept pulling me back to life where pain set in again when I had this place I could go without pain. I wanted to be without pain. But I finally decided to come back to life and be present and not go back to the waiting room any more. Once I made that decision, the access I had to the waiting room just seemed to go away.
I've been sick and close to death once since this waiting room experience, but even though I was unconcious, I never have gone back to the waiting room again.
And I miss it... I miss it every day, wishing I could visit it again, not to stay, but to visit. I was told I could come any time I wanted to but I can't figure out how to get there and get back. I just want to visit though--not to stay!