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ME Myself and I. Soul diaries 3 by Nicky Alan

By:Nicky Alan
Date: Tue,18 Apr 2017
Submitter:Nicky Alan
Views:6920

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Hi all,

As so many people have asked here is my third blog entry on my spiritual journey through the hardest and darkest night of my soul.
As I kept a soul journal through my experiences, everything is exactly as it was.

Please feel free to subscribe to my blog on my website under the blog menu, then each new entry can be sent directly to your email.
I wish you all love and strength and hope that my experiences help you in some way, no matter how small
Thanks for reading and i look forward to your feedback xx

ME myself and I. My Soul Diaries 3
Category : MY STORY , Uncategorized

After sobbing my heart out and dropping my dustbin bags in my friends spare room, I mechanically fed my dogs had a cup of coffee and had a bath. Another thing I had noticed is that with ME your body temperature cannot correct itself properly, so if you are cold you are cold to the bone, literally and nothing will help you unless you have a scalding hot bath and stay under a load of bed covers for a few hours. The other extreme is your whole body throbbing and literally dripping sweat from every pore because you can’t cool down even if it’s freezing outside. I don’t really know which I preferred, to be honest but it was a ‘cold to the bone’ experience I was having. So I went straight to bed and the tears decided to spill again once I was alone. I could feel my two fur babies curled up on my feet. The pain was agonising but it gave me comfort, my two beautiful little Earth angels who had no doubt come into my life to help me through this dark journey. I smiled as I listened to Mia, my shihtzu who snores like an elephant! It made me laugh but then the emotions always lead to complete despair and misery.

Where were my signs that it was going to be alright? Where were my synchronicities and answers from the angel realms? Where was my dad and the rest of my family in spirit? Why weren’t they here whispering signs from the afterlife and the Heavenly realms.

I resented them all, they had, with no doubt in my mind left me, like used goods. I had sweated blood and tears to bring their messages to the world and as far as I was concerned they had upped and left, thank you and goodbye.

I remember laying in that bed and thinking back to when I was last seriously ill.

I had been in St Lucia, one of my most favourite places in the world. I have this inexplicable draw to the Caribbean, in a sense strangely it’s like going home. I had only been there a day and my tummy didn’t feel right. We had just carried out a dive and I started to feel this ‘pulling sensation’ to the side of my tummy. I assumed I had pulled a muscle during the dive.

That night in my favourite restaurant, the waiters who knew us there had laid out my favourite meal. An extravaganza of sea food, my favourite, which on reflection is a bit hypocritical when I dive and see all these morsels travelling around freely in the ocean! Anyway, I just looked at the sea food and couldn’t even think about eating one mouthful. My partner at the time said, ‘Blimey you must be ill if you don’t want to eat that!’ He quickly finished his meal and I went straight to bed.

I will never forget it as I remember waking up in agony, sweating. I was trying to calm myself as I felt a wave of panic lace through me, something was definitely not right. I tried to focus on the ‘bling frogs’ as I call them. They are co qui frogs that produce the most amazing night symphony you could imagine. Their song, however brought me no comfort. I then felt the nausea rise and hobbled to the bathroom. I was literally vomiting green gunk. I was shivering and dripping sweat and felt awful. There was then the familiar goosebumps on my back and the air felt colder, someone was with me.

‘It’s your appendix love,’ said the discarnate voice. I then looked round and could see the transparent outlines of my grandad Fred. ‘You want to get that seen to, quickly!’

‘Grandad?’

He had disappeared as soon as he had manifested.

I came out of the bathroom and woke my partner. ‘Wake up!’ I was shaking him like a rag doll, ‘My grandad has been here! He says it’s my appendix, I think I need to go to hospital’

He said in muffled tones obviously not impressed I had so urgently roused him from sleep.

‘If it was your appendix you would know about it trust me, it must be food poisoning, take an aspirin and go back to sleep.’

So I did just that, like a prized plum! Just a quick footnote here, if someone from the spirit world manifests enough energy to appear and speak to you, ‘Bloody listen!’

After a couple of hours I awoke in the most ridiculous pain. My partner was sympathetic but he always had the philosophy, if you ignore it, it will go away. So there I was trundling behind him on the way to the buffet restaurant.

I got a glass of orange juice and sat down, the pain then went up a notch and I finally realised, ‘No more’ this was very serious.

Before I knew it I was being taken to hospital, my appendix about to burst. I will never forget Dr Richardson. He was like a doctor from a Mills and Boon romance. Tall, elegant, the most beautiful green eyes that you just wanted to dive into, light milk chocolate skin and a voice just as velvety as his looks. He was a dream boat! Self assured, gentle and god did he have a bedside manner! He patiently explained to me that as I had an allergy to Scoline in some anaesthetics, he had no choice but to do a spinal tap. He had to operate immediately so there was no time to waste on checking my records back in the UK.

I just dreamily looked up into those long lashed emerald eyes and agreed.

My god I didn’t know what I was letting myself in for. It was the most agonising torture I have ever endured and will never let another needle enter my spine ever!

It took four times for them to get it right.

I remember being awake as they cut me open and it was the most surreal feeling. This man was at my head end and was playing Michael Jackson videos. Billy Jean was playing and I will never forget him asking me smiling, ‘You like Michael Jackson?’ I could feel the panic rise within me and the heat from the spinal tap snaking its way up my torso. I had had enough I started to get hysterical and beg for them to put me out I couldn’t take it any more. I don’t know what they gave me but it was complete bliss, I was on another planet whilst they carried out the procedure.

When I arrived back on planet Earth, I found myself in a beautifully sunlit room affording a view of the turquoise waters of the Caribbean Sea. It only took seconds for my eyes to burn in annoyance against the light. As I moved my head it was like molten lava had shifted inside my head. I was spinning and not realising that I was screaming out at the same time.

It turned out, even though the appendix scar was the cutest most neat scar I had ever seen in my life, the anaesthetist had ruptured my spinal cord and my cerebral s

pinal fluid was leaking out. So any movement created my brain to literally knock against my skull.

Trust me when I say that I can take on any pain now compared to that. Perhaps it got me in training all of those years before, for now! I ended up being held upside down for days with all sorts of drips plugged into me. The doctors were very concerned because as the days passed the rupture wasn’t repairing itself and they were worried that my brain was going to swell to an extent that would bring serious danger. I could feel the ebb of panic rise as they whispered in the corridor and then looked back at me. After about a week they had decided the following day that they were going to inject a blood clot into my spinal cord to try and block the rupture. I had to sign a disclaimer as there could be the potential of paralysis or worse.

Great.

I was so convinced that I was going to die I asked my partner to bring paper so I could write to my mum, my last final words on my death bed! He left completely distraught and then it occurred to me to speak to my bosses.

Even though I was upside down in a hospital bed, the view to my right was breath taking. The window was floor to ceiling and I could look out from the cliff top room to the Caribbean bay before me. In any other situation, it would have been idyllic.

I whispered, ‘If you can hear me, spirit world or the angels, please let me know if I am going to make it, just get me out of this hospital, if I’m going to be ok please give me a sign’

It took seconds, I am not and do not need to exaggerate. No sooner had the words left my desperate lips a massive soft fluffy feather cascaded down outside and stuck to the window directly where my face was. My heart raced, I could not believe what I was seeing. I blinked quite a few times to make sure it wasn’t delirium creating this amazing sight before me. The feather rippled in the breeze but stayed attached to the window.

A white feather displayed before you in unusual circumstance has always been identified as a sign from the angel realms. The trick is, is to make sure it is unexplainable and as an open minded sceptic I always see if the phenomena of an apport is explainable, but this one was pretty much up there as a sure sign as far as I was concerned.

‘Thank you’ was all I said as I smiled.

When my partner returned I stated that I no longer needed the paper and I would be out the following day. He looked at me like I was delusional!

My mood completely changed, I was managing humour and my partner was beyond excellent during those awful days.

That night I went to sleep smiling, everything would be ok.

The following morning the feather had gone and I wondered if I had dreamt it all. I wanted to move my head but I was so scared that it would be the same blinding pain I had been experiencing. I didn’t want to face the reality that yesterday was all in my imagination and that I was still seriously ill.

After what seemed an eternity, I moved my head cautiously. Just a little dull ache! So then I lifted my head up and again just a dull thud of pain.

I used the power button to put the bed back to horizontal position. I was ok. I moved my drip around to the side of the bed and thought I would chance sitting up. Just dull pain. I then stupidly, on reflection stood up from the bed. I was a little dizzy to begin with and exceptionally wobbly but I started to walk to the en suite. I could not believe it, I was up walking. I was gushing my thanks to the angels when one of the orderlies came in and nearly dropped her tray.

With her eyes wide she was panicking and saying ‘madam you must get back into bed, get back in bed now’

I just laughed and said, ‘You need to contact Dr Richardson, I am feeling much better!’

To say he was gob smacked is an understatement, his puzzled looks continued throughout my examination as he should of at the time been operating on me.

By the end of the day I was allowed to go back to the hotel. I was on strict orders that I must lay flat for two weeks then return to the hospital for further examination. If I promised this then I could be released. Of course I promised this and adhered to it. I ended up staying there in the hotel for five weeks. The hotel were excellent, people were coming in on their days off to visit me, I had massive bouquets of flowers regularly sent to my room and every now and then the management moved me to another room right on the beach so I had a different view to look at. They even sent chefs round every evening and asked what I would liked cooked and then set up a dining area on the bed so I could eat, although horizontal, with my partner.

I even had to return to the UK first class as I had to lay down for the flight, luxury!

So then the angels and my grandad had been there, so where the bloody hell were they now?

In fact I shouted this out as I thought it. The room was blue by the time I had cursed my way through their apparent absence. I was literally giving them what for, I was so angry.

The angel realms and the spirit world seem to kick in in the eleventh hour, well that is what I have experienced during my illness. Just when you have spewed out accusations at them and screamed every obscenity you can, they deliver, leaving you so humble and embarrassed that you had lost faith in them. Well this was my eleventh hour. I was sick to the stomach of it all.

The following morning my friend dragged me out of bed and told me I was going to get some drum healing. I would rather have buried my head in rotten cabbage. I had no belief in healing any more and thought it was a complete waste of time. I just wanted to lay under the duvet and feel sorry for myself. But no, I was made to get dressed which was exhausting in itself and get in the car. By this time a new friend had arrived to greet me, in the name of anxiety. With everything going on she crawled up to me and made her presence known by quickening my heart rate to sheer panic levels. My mind would go completely blank and I was totally incapable of dealing with anything at all. If the phone went or an email arrived I was sent into blind panic. I had lost the ability to cope. This ex copper who was the strength in any given traumatic incident had been reduced to a complete jelly even if it was planning whether to try and make a cup of tea or go to the loo. The decision overwhelmed me. So as I sat in the car the fear and anxiety turned to rage and misery. I went to Lupton under a cloud of blackness not being able to cope with seeing other human beings.

Thank God she took me. Right up to getting on that healing table I was cursing inside, as far as I was concerned what the hell was a stupid healing drum going to do after two years of being in bed?

Oh my Goodness how wrong was I.

It was to be the first amazing step in the direction to acceptance, strength and the will to go on.





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