It is early in the evening when I drag my tired body up the stairs. My oxygen bottle is heavy on my left shoulder, and I gasp for air.
It is a period in my life where my body just wants to give up. Tired from infections, tired from coughing and pneumonia all the time. Just being done with it all seems a good way to be or maybe even to go.
I do not want to go yet, waiting for a lung transplant, I am still fighting and hanging on by a thread.
It is a small bedroom with my bed at one side to the wall, oxygen on the other side of the hallway but with tricks and holes in the wall, it delivers a blast in my room, into my nose.
There is a build in alarm system that will wake the whole house if the power is cut of by whatever reason there may be and with the oxygen blowing in my nose, giving me time to relax a bit sitting on my bed and knowing that if something goes wrong, I will be still safe, I get ready to sleep.
Slow as a snail I undress, put my clothes on the chair next to my bed and lay down.
With two thick pillows I am half sitting in my bed, but I can relax.
The lamellae are closed but they still let light through from the streetlight in front of the house.
The room is never very dark. When my eyes adjust to the darker surroundings, I can see my chair with clothes, my desk, the big closet with clothes on the other side of the room. No, I do not have that many clothes, it is half filled with medication too.
I think of friends and family, seeing them, smiling, having fun. It gives me joy and slowly I fall asleep.
But… halfway the night something wakes me up.
I blink with my eyes a few times and panic start to take over.
In the light, in the corner just in front of the closet there is a man standing. The light makes him a bit blueish, white. No sound.
I sit up in my bed a bit, pull my legs up to stay as far away as I can from him, sweat is starting to poor down my forehead. My shirt is stuck to my chest. Not just from a shortage of oxygen this time.
I blink again. He is still there. Just standing there, doing nothing but watching me. Clearly watching me.
I close my eyes and shake my head. When I open my eyes, the room is empty again.
What the…? Was this real? He was there?
I wipe my face with the blanket. Am I going insane?
I did not sleep for three days.
Did not tell anyone about that night and I still have not.
Not sleeping and a bad health made me fall asleep again after a while and I forgot the situation.
Time passed, I had a lung transplant, and we are now 22 years later.
Three weeks ago, we had a session. Yes, you know where I am going.
He came through and said I knew him. He said his name and I was still clueless.
Of course, he never spoke. I did not know anything about him.
But we figured it out together. With enough hints, I knew, and we laughed.
‘You made me shit in my pants! I did not sleep for three whole days, man!’
Why he came back, I don not know.
Back then, I think he was there to prepare me for the crossing. Leaving the body, accepting the light, which is tough on everybody who does not know what is out there.
It is good to know he is here, and he was and is not alone. Three young guys are backing me up.
