Returning from Silence: A Near-Death Experience
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$26.99
Regular price $32.99
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Returning from Silence: A Near-Death Experience
Sale price
$26.99
Regular price $32.99
Nothing is Quite What It Seems
In this compelling work of fiction, author and educator Phil Allard introduces us to the orderly life of Thomas Merrill, a 62-year-old high school Science teacher from Savannah, Georgia.
When a medical emergency sends Thomas on a harrowing ambulance ride and a touch-and-go procedure on the cold steel table of the emergency room, he is miraculously revived and returned to the comfortable routines of his daily life.
Or is he?
For Thomas, who has lingered on the threshold of clinical death, nothing is quite the same and he is left with a perplexing question:
Is this simply his body’s chemical reaction to the trauma caused by a close brush with death?
Or is this the doorway to a previously unimagined understanding of the essential questions of life?
After considering Thomas’ story, only you can be the judge.
Incident
A Wednesday like any other…
The Ambulance sirens shriek, tearing through Savannah's dense, yellow, evening air.
A vibrant Red Cardinal perches upon a palm tree. Hattie Coleman stands in the yard where the cardinal watches; Hattie is waiting. She can't stop pacing. She checks her watch again--17:04. Seventeen minutes since she made the emergency call. Having been a nurse for so many years, her mind always converts her antique analog watch to military time.
Her neighbor, Thomas Merrill, hasn't moved. He’s lying there on grass, the way she found him. He’s not dead yet; she knows that much.
An ambulance whips around the corner, tires screeching on the asphalt. The red and white strobing lights turn the Spanish moss into something out of a hallucinogenic movie--crimson, then ghost-white, then crimson again. Doors slam like gunshots. Boots hammer the pavement.
"What've we got here?" The first paramedic says. He is young, all business, already yanking equipment from the truck.
"Fire ant attack,” Hattie answers, “Bad allergic reaction. He's been down maybe twenty minutes. Besides his allergies, he’s in pretty good health for a man in his 60’s.”
Hattie's voice stays steady—more than forty years of nursing will do that—but her hands won't stop shaking. This is serious.
"Breathing's shallow. Pulse is weak," she adds.
The second paramedic drops to a knee beside Thomas, like he's done hundreds of times before. Checks the airway, feels for a pulse. Those pupils are fixed and dilated, not good.
"Anaphylactic shock,” he says to his partner. “Get me the epi, now."
Hattie watches as he starts cutting the clothes away. Scissors catch the fading light, silver flashes. Thomas's chest is exposed now.
“Lordy,” she thinks to herself, “those welts are angry looking, pulsing like they've got their own heartbeat.”
The second paramedic returns with the epi syringe. The needle slides into muscle. Epinephrine hits his bloodstream.
Nothing happens.
"Come on, come on!" The first paramedic shouts as he starts chest compressions, positioning his hands just right over the sternum. "You're not dying on me today, buddy. One, two, three, four..."
Now the second paramedic has the defibrillator ready. Applies the pads.
“Clear!” he shouts and pushes the switch.
The second paramedic nods. "Good. We got him. Let's get moving."
Meanwhile, Hattie looks at the monitor and can see that Thomas's vitals are all over the place. Heart rate jumping up, dropping down, jumping again. Blood pressure doing its own crazy dance. Oxygen levels hover where they shouldn't be.
"Push another epi," Hattie says quietly....
In this compelling work of fiction, author and educator Phil Allard introduces us to the orderly life of Thomas Merrill, a 62-year-old high school Science teacher from Savannah, Georgia.
When a medical emergency sends Thomas on a harrowing ambulance ride and a touch-and-go procedure on the cold steel table of the emergency room, he is miraculously revived and returned to the comfortable routines of his daily life.
Or is he?
For Thomas, who has lingered on the threshold of clinical death, nothing is quite the same and he is left with a perplexing question:
Is this simply his body’s chemical reaction to the trauma caused by a close brush with death?
Or is this the doorway to a previously unimagined understanding of the essential questions of life?
After considering Thomas’ story, only you can be the judge.
Incident
A Wednesday like any other…
The Ambulance sirens shriek, tearing through Savannah's dense, yellow, evening air.
A vibrant Red Cardinal perches upon a palm tree. Hattie Coleman stands in the yard where the cardinal watches; Hattie is waiting. She can't stop pacing. She checks her watch again--17:04. Seventeen minutes since she made the emergency call. Having been a nurse for so many years, her mind always converts her antique analog watch to military time.
Her neighbor, Thomas Merrill, hasn't moved. He’s lying there on grass, the way she found him. He’s not dead yet; she knows that much.
An ambulance whips around the corner, tires screeching on the asphalt. The red and white strobing lights turn the Spanish moss into something out of a hallucinogenic movie--crimson, then ghost-white, then crimson again. Doors slam like gunshots. Boots hammer the pavement.
"What've we got here?" The first paramedic says. He is young, all business, already yanking equipment from the truck.
"Fire ant attack,” Hattie answers, “Bad allergic reaction. He's been down maybe twenty minutes. Besides his allergies, he’s in pretty good health for a man in his 60’s.”
Hattie's voice stays steady—more than forty years of nursing will do that—but her hands won't stop shaking. This is serious.
"Breathing's shallow. Pulse is weak," she adds.
The second paramedic drops to a knee beside Thomas, like he's done hundreds of times before. Checks the airway, feels for a pulse. Those pupils are fixed and dilated, not good.
"Anaphylactic shock,” he says to his partner. “Get me the epi, now."
Hattie watches as he starts cutting the clothes away. Scissors catch the fading light, silver flashes. Thomas's chest is exposed now.
“Lordy,” she thinks to herself, “those welts are angry looking, pulsing like they've got their own heartbeat.”
The second paramedic returns with the epi syringe. The needle slides into muscle. Epinephrine hits his bloodstream.
Nothing happens.
"Come on, come on!" The first paramedic shouts as he starts chest compressions, positioning his hands just right over the sternum. "You're not dying on me today, buddy. One, two, three, four..."
Now the second paramedic has the defibrillator ready. Applies the pads.
“Clear!” he shouts and pushes the switch.
The second paramedic nods. "Good. We got him. Let's get moving."
Meanwhile, Hattie looks at the monitor and can see that Thomas's vitals are all over the place. Heart rate jumping up, dropping down, jumping again. Blood pressure doing its own crazy dance. Oxygen levels hover where they shouldn't be.
"Push another epi," Hattie says quietly....