Woman Dies And Gets Shown The Power Of Intention During Miraculous NDE

Introduction and Backstory
The Biopsy and Emergency
The Temporary Death Experience
Return and Medical Aftermath
Life Changes and Spiritual Healing
Quoted Interesting Statements

Introduction and Backstory

My name is Rosemary Thornton and I’m the author of ten books. Nine of my books are on architectural history and ancillary topics, but my tenth book is the story of my near-death experience, as I prefer to call it, my temporary death experience.

Briefly, the backstory is I was married to a man that I thought was the love of my life. He was handsome, sophisticated, enjoyed life. We had a good time, we had a good life. There were days that I’d get depressed and I’d turn to my husband and say, tell me again about our life. And he’d say, we have many reasons to be grateful, we have a good life. But one day in April 2016, he came home for lunch—I was out of town at the time—and he ended his life at our home. He used a gun.

I’ve always been a very sensitive soul, as a writer, as so many writers are, and I pretty well lost my mind. It was not just the loss of my husband, but there had been an argument that was our last phone call. It was very ugly. I had no idea that would be the last time I ever heard his voice, and I lost my mind. I went down pretty far. I couldn’t go back to the house for obvious reasons, so I was left with going from this lovely life to having to start again. I was 57 years old at the time, and I literally had to start over. I wasn’t able to live alone, and a friend found out that I had been spending a lot of time sleeping in my car, and she told me this has to stop. And I think my friends, those who are still around, recognize that once somebody gets to that point, they’re on the cusp of being lost, and that’s where I was.

So I lived with my friend for four months, and she was so kind and good. She worked a very hard job, worked a lot of long hours, but she would come home at the end of the day and without exception she would come into the guest room where I was sleeping. And she told me later that I would often be writhing, moaning, even crying in my sleep. She said it was heartbreaking, and she would stand at the foot of the bed and she would pray for me. And she did that every night, and sometimes in the middle of the night when I would awaken the household with my screams—I had a lot of nightmares, pretty severe PTSD—she took good care of me for four months and prayed for me faithfully. And I think that changed how this might have ended, because I had been dealing with my own suicidal ideations. So I was in pretty bad shape.

And then after four months, I moved out of her house, and then I rented a home with a friend, and that friend became a caretaker and took care of me for some time, actually close to two years. Just about the time I thought maybe I was starting to crawl out of the worst of this hell, I was diagnosed with stage two cervical cancer.

The Biopsy and Emergency

Went in for a biopsy, some things went wrong. They didn’t know how badly they had gone wrong. The hospital discharged me despite my protest that I was bleeding profusely. I was sent home. At home, I recognized that I was bleeding way too much, and in fact, I remember being at my home and standing in my shower because I was bleeding so much. I was very concerned about messing up the pretty carpet—I had new carpet in my house—so I stayed in that shower while I figured out what to do.

And I was losing so much blood, I knew it wouldn’t take long, and I actually had the thought that I had been thinking an awful lot about how to end my own life. And I remember a Bible verse my friend Tracy had read to me back in the day. It was First Corinthians 10:13, and it said God will show you a way out. And I thought, wow, maybe this is my way out. Maybe God has provided me with a door out of this life. You know, every night for 29 months between my husband’s suicide and my own experience with the cervical biopsy, I had prayed every night three prayers, which was: God, either heal me or let me die. Second prayer was: When I die, spare me the life review. After my husband’s suicide, I had been tormented by the most horrific nightmares. I can’t even begin to describe how horrific these nightmares were, and I felt that I’d been through enough. I didn’t need to see this chapter of my life again. And my third prayer was: I was so weary of decisions. After my husband’s suicide, there were many difficult legal decisions that had to be faced, in addition to all the decisions that go with the loss of a spouse. So I told God, I can’t handle any more decisions.

So I’m standing in my shower trying to figure out what to do. Is this my way out? And I thought, you know, I can just sit down on the shower floor and this is going to be over. I will be dead soon. And I knew I was fading, and I sat down. I wouldn’t have the energy to get back up. I thought about that a lot, and then I thought about the people who’d taken such good care of me. Is this really fair to just give up now after these people have shown me such tender care and solicitude? So I exited the shower, wrapped a towel futilely around myself, and stepped out into the living room and told my friends out there—two friends who brought me home from the hospital—I said, I’m bleeding to death, we need to go to an ER.

So an ambulance was summoned, and I was taken to an ER. And it was an interesting ER. I lived in a small town. This ER was not physically connected to a hospital; it was a standalone ER. And at that ER, they made some more mistakes, and one of the unfortunate things they did, they gave me a shot of Dilaudid, which is a morphine derivative, and that shot was probably what stopped my heart. But prior to this, as I was lying on that gurney and that doctor and the nurse were examining me, I grabbed the nurse’s hand. She was an RN, about my age, late 50s. At this point, I was 59. And I exacted a promise from her. I said, promise me you’re not going to let me die. And she said, oh honey, we have many solutions for this. We’re not going to let you die. I was greatly comforted by that because I thought, you know, we’ve gone through a lot of effort here; let’s see this thing through.

Well, after that shot of Dilaudid, it wasn’t very long. Pretty close to my very last words on this earth were: Whoa, that’s some really good stuff. And that’s really my last conscious memory. My friend again was sitting by my side inside the gurney there in the ER, and he said it wasn’t very long after that shot that I lost consciousness. But he said at some point, not just less than five minutes later, my eyes popped open and I tried to reach up to heaven. He said, you were talking to somebody that only you could see. And he said he stood up and he leaned over me and said, what do you need? And I didn’t respond. He said, you looked right through me.

Well, my friend said at that moment, actually a moment before, he’d looked at the blood pressure machine that was hooked up to my arm, and it was an automatic blood pressure reader, and my blood pressure at that point was 32 over 25, which I was pretty much gone at that point. I believe at that moment that I reached up to heaven, I’m pretty sure that’s when my soul left the body. And after reading 32 over 25, its next reading was error, which meant that it was lower than 32 over 25.

The Temporary Death Experience

Meanwhile, I was having the time of my life. I don’t remember being asleep; it was what I would describe as a deep dreamless state. But I remember being awakened, and as I was awakened, I was catapulted out of my body, and I mean dramatically. It was almost jarring the way I was catapulted out of that body. I had a sense that there was a silver, sinewy, shimmery cord from the crown of my head to the heel of my feet, and it was as though it had been pulled back like an archer’s bow and released. And as it snapped back into a vertical position, I was thrown out of that body.

And as soon as I’m floating away from my body in this absolute blackness—and yet the blackness was comforting, actively comforting, very interesting to me—one of my first thoughts was: My heart has stopped. And I thought, how do I know that? I don’t know how I know that, but I know that’s right. And I’m continuing to float what I presume to be further and further away from my body, and I did not see my body. A lot of people have asked me, did you see where you were floating away from? I did not.

But meanwhile, floating further and further away, my next thought was: I’m free. I almost felt like I’d been granted early release for good behavior. I had so many memories. My consciousness went from 60 amps to 100,000 amps. I was thinking so many thoughts at once, and they were all interesting thoughts.

One of my next thoughts was: I’m dying. And then I thought: Actually, you’re not dying, you’re dead. Because when you’re going on to your reward, the most important thing is correcting your grammar. And I thought that’s pretty funny, and I laughed out loud, and I heard my own unique Rosemary-shaped giggle. And I thought: Wow, I don’t have breath sounds. I don’t think I have lungs. I don’t think I have vocal chords. And yet I am producing sound as I always have. I sound as I’ve always sounded. I had a brief career in broadcasting, so I know what my voice sounds like, but my voice sounded just like it’s always sounded, and that was very comforting. And I realized: Wow, my intellect has come with me. My goofball sense of humor has come with me. Even my funny little giggle has come with me. My natural curiosity, my memories. I remembered so many Bible verses, and one of the Bible verses that came to me, the Apostle Paul talks about the peace that passeth all understanding. I thought: This is that peace. And I know some people talk about their heavenly experience and they talk about the love; well, I felt peace, the most perfect peace you can ever imagine.

And as a writer, I’ve always been a creative type, sensitive type, and I’ve always really struggled mightily with anxiety. One of my daily prayers has been: Let go of the fears and the worries and all that. And I have really struggled my whole life. After my husband’s suicide, you can imagine how that got ramped up; I became a pretty big mess. Well, as I was thinking about what I had left behind on that gurney, I realized I was no longer experiencing any anxiety, any fear, any worry, any guilt, any regret, anything negative. I didn’t have that with me. And I thought: Oh my life, I’ve wondered what I would look like set free from anxiety. And I thought: This is it. This is great. I like this. I like the Rosemary that has no fear and no worries and no anxiety. It was such a wonderful experience. I had not one thought about returning to that body, not one thought. I just kept thinking: I’m out. It’s over. It’s done. God heard my prayer: either heal me or set me free. And I was set free. So all the memories of my prior life were still pretty clear, and yet I was at peace, just perfect, perfect peace.

Well, this experience went on and on and on for some time. If you had asked me how long the whole thing went on, I could easily say a day. Another thing that happened very early in this experience is, I’m still floating away from my body, floating somewhere, floating to something. I felt the presence of a massive, massive spiritual being, and he was to my left and slightly—well, much taller than me—and slightly behind me. So I turned my head to the left, and as I did, I asked with a great deal of joy in my voice: And who are you? And before I could even finish that simple sentence, the answer was immediate: You are the image and likeness; I’m the original. And I recognize that as a quote from Genesis 1:26 and 27, that we’re made in the image and likeness of God. And I thought: Wow, that’s always been one of my very favorite Bible verses, and now I get it. I’m the image and likeness; there’s an original.

And at some point, I was no longer floating, but I was on my feet, and I was in a white room. And one of my frustrations is I do not remember the transition. I remember kind of being in that white room and thinking: Oh, not floating anymore. I’m not in blackness; I’m in a white room. No idea how I got there, but I remember thinking: I’m standing on something that seems to be approximating two legs and two feet. I don’t know the mechanics, but I saw a door in front of me, maybe—I don’t know—15 to 20 feet (6.1 meters) in front of me. And throughout my entire life, I had been fascinated reading about other people’s near-death experiences, and I knew what that door in front of me meant. It meant that I would be crossing over and wouldn’t be coming back. It meant we were done; it was over. I couldn’t wait to get to that door. And I remember very clearly thinking: I don’t know if I have legs or feet, but I know that I can move with intention, and if I have an intention to get to that door, I’ll get there. And so I began moving, and I wanted to be at that door so fast, so bad.

But as I’m walking through that room, there was a white mist everywhere, falling gently. And I remember trying to focus on a single droplet of this white mist or fog, and I thought: I feel like I should be able to focus on an individual droplet. Well, next time you’re in a fog, think about focusing on an individual droplet; sounds a little crazy. But one of the spiritual beings that was with me said plainly: Your eyes have not acclimated to this new spiritual environment yet, but these particles are actually particles of light that are falling around you. And it was explained to me very succinctly that before we go to heaven, before we go to the next place, we have to be cleansed from all the muck of the earth, and that some people think they have had a disease process or a mental illness for so long, they believe it to be part of their identity. And the purpose of this white room was to cleanse us. So this mist was not just falling but actively moving around me, all around me, and I loved it.

I couldn’t wait to be at that door, and through this time, I was accompanied by at least one spiritual being. I didn’t see them, but I felt their presence, and they answered my questions as I asked them. Well, I got to that door as fast as I could. I couldn’t wait to see what’s coming next, and I was so happy. You know, several people have said: I can’t believe that you were happy to be dead. That’s the thing: to the person having the experience, there is no death. Now, for the people left behind, you know, they have to deal with grief and loss and no more contact and all the other things, but for the person having it, there is no death.

And in my own experience, I’m getting close to that door, and I don’t know really the words, but it was made very clear to me that if I decided to return to earth, I would be restored to wholeness, to perfect wholeness. So when I was told: If you decide to go back, you’ll be restored to wholeness, I didn’t really think about the cancer as much as I thought about the fact that I had been miserable. I had been so grief-stricken; I just couldn’t seem to find my way out of the grief and the guilt. The thing about suicide: when somebody kills themselves, the survivors, like the immediate survivors, face so much guilt. I guess I was a terrible wife. So I didn’t want to go back to any of that. I didn’t want to go back to being a social pariah in society. I didn’t want to go back to being considered a leper by too many people that I had known. I didn’t want to go back to the grief, the nightmares, the PTSD, the constant unrelenting turmoil and torment of being a suicide survivor. It was made clear: if I agreed to go back, I would be restored to wholeness. And I thought: That’s good to know. I’m not interested.

And as I approached the door, I was a little mystified by the fact that the door was shut. I thought the door should be open, that I could just pass through. I thought: I don’t know; I was just a little mystified by that. And I put my right hand up to push through this shut door, but as I went to put my right hand up, I did pause, and I asked: Is this the divine will for my life? Because what is hard to explain, but when you’re in that place, all you want to do is to glorify God and do the will of God. Your ego, your sense of self, whatever, is set aside, and you just want to do what you’re supposed to do. And I couldn’t even get the full sentence out, the full question: Now, is this the divine will for my life? And the answer I got to “is this divine”—and before I could finish, the answer was immediate: No, it is not. However, whatever you decide—if you decide to go back or you decide to go through that door—you go with all of God’s mercy and love and care and blessings. There is not a wrong decision. And that was so comforting, and that was the answer to that second prayer, that I was so tired of having to make decisions, hard decisions. And I guess deciding whether or not to go on to the next life or come back, that this was a pretty big decision, pretty weighty decision to make.

And I was thinking this through, and I thought: All right, I want to go on. I understand the deal, but I want to go on. And at that moment, I was given a vision, and to call it a vision is an understatement. It felt like I stepped into a room and saw something for just a moment, like I was a secret silent observer in a room. And I was in a hospital supply room, and the nurse that had been so kind to me, that had held my hand, that had wiped the tears from my face when I started to cry—she was sitting in this room surrounded by typical hospital supplies and linens and such. She was sitting on a little stool, head in her hands, leaning forward, sobbing uncontrollably. And she said: I promised that woman I wasn’t gonna let her die, and I lost her. I thought: Oh man. Then I thought: Well, you know what? She’s an RN; she’s been through a lot. She’s about my age; she’s lost people before. She’ll get over it. And then I was again ready to go on through the door.

And then I had another vision of this nurse, and this time I didn’t just see her, but I experienced her grief. And I recognized that agonal grief is the same thing I had experienced after my husband’s suicide—this very deep grief, deep grief. I recognized that people spend a long time getting past. And I told myself: If you can spare one person that much agony, you have to go back. So I put my right hand down by my side, and in a millisecond, a millisecond, I was back in my body.

Return and Medical Aftermath

And this time there was lots and lots of activity all around me. My friend told me later they summoned everybody in that little ER back to the room, even the receptionist, to work on me. I had been dead without a heartbeat for more than 10 minutes. One of the remarkable things I’ve since learned is when somebody dies of bleeding to death—which turned out was my cause of death—you can’t even do CPR because it pushes more blood out of the body. So my brain went for more than 10 minutes without any oxygenation or oxygen-infused blood. So the fact that I came back from this is pretty profound.

I was taken by ambulance to a major hospital, and there lots of things happened. I was wheeled down the corridors of that hospital for some heart tests, and as they wheeled me down, I said: No need to worry; the angels told me if I agreed to come back, I’d be fine. And at every point in turn—blood tests, blood work, different tests—the doctor would sit by my bedside and say: Mrs. Thornton, you’re very lucky. Your heart’s in perfect condition. Your organs are all working just as they should. There appear to be no consequences.

Turns out when you go back to the original oncologist and say: By the way, we don’t need to worry about that chemo and radiation—I was scheduled to start chemo and radiation as soon as I recovered from this—when you tell them you were healed in heaven, that doesn’t always sit well with them. And I had to find another oncologist, actually in a different part of the state, and it took some time. She wanted several weeks for me to recover from this. She was more interested in the fact that I bled to death than the fact that I’d been healed in heaven. But a second surgical biopsy was done. She took a lot of flesh from a lot of places.

And my friend again waiting outside in the waiting room of that hospital during the second surgery—he said she came through the doors, threw her arms around his neck, and said: She’s right. There is not one cell of cancer left in her body. And she said: In fact, her flesh is so pink and pretty and perfect; were it not for all the medical tests, I wouldn’t believe she ever had cancer.

Life Changes and Spiritual Healing

Well, actually, after I came out of that hospital the first time, as soon as I was back on my feet, I started selling off all my worldly possessions, and then I drove a thousand miles out to the Midwest because I craved beauty. I live in an area with lots of farmland, agricultural area. I love sitting in my car and literally watching the corn grow. I just love to be in beauty. My life has changed a lot, and I guess the biggest healing was not the healing of the cancer—I don’t want to diminish that in any way—but when I got home, I opened my Bible—got home from the hospital—and I opened it to the 23rd Psalm, and there was one line of that that just felt literally like it was illuminated, and the line was: He restoreth my soul. And I realized that’s the real healing.

All that grief and anger and despair and self-condemnation was swept away. I no longer blamed myself. I forgave myself. I realized, as my friends had told me so faithfully—so faithfully—everyone I loved had told me: There is nothing you could have done to stop him from ending his life, and there is nothing you could have done to make him end his life. I just wasn’t that important; that this was his decision. One of the things that had plagued me so was I felt like I had disappointed God. I had hoped that my husband would stop being an agnostic and start believing that there is a creator, there is a God, that there is life after death, and I never did. And something the angels told me: They said, we are told to work out our own salvation; you were busy trying to work out his. And I was told: You’re a sheep; you’re not a shepherd. I was with so many things that took me off that loop of just going the rumination of: Why did he do this? I thought he loved me. I failed him.

I was set free. I literally felt like the shackles were released from my hands.

[Music]

Staring lost about the skyline