I don’t remember dying, but I did. Twice. It was a chilly Fall morning in October at a dentist’s office in Santa Fe. My mom had escorted me to what was supposed to be a regular wisdom teeth extraction appointment. Instead, something went horribly wrong.
The anesthesia was too much for my little body and my heart gave out. I was a teenager at the time and slight in stature. What’s more, I had never been put under for any type of surgery. I’d always been a pillar of health, barely catching a cold.
Luckily that day, the dentist and his assistant sprung into action, performing aggressive CPR on me until a crash cart was located and wheeled into the oral surgery suite. The doctor shocked my heart over and over again with a defibrillator until he was able to restore my heartbeat and its natural rhythm. Mind you, this all happened with my mother in the room screaming: “What in God’s name is happening?!”
Read the rest of my journey about love and healing at www.wsvn.com
