This was back in 2001. I had back surgery on 9/10/2001 and woke up early the next morning groggy from the meds but unable to sleep. By coincidence,
I had a subscription to New Yorker magazine at the time and was reading a copy in my hospital bed starting at about 530am (Pacific time). Just before
6am, I looked up at my suitemate's TV, which had been on all night, and saw the first tower burning. I immediately called my wife to let her know
something bad had happened to the towers in New York. We were both watching the feed, she at home, me in my hospital bed, discussing what might be
going on, when the second jet came into view making a hard left turn at full speed into the second tower. The whole thing seemed like a dream to me,
but unfortunately I was wide awake. I told my wife to get over to the hospital and get me out of there as soon as possible.
Things went down hill from there. Within three days I had developed a complication from my surgery involving a tear in my thecal sack and a spinal
fluid leak that forced open my surgical incision and caused an excrutiating condition called low-pressure headaches combined with radiculopathy. My
surgeon's protocol for this situation was to first patch me up and see if the leak stopped on its own. It didn't. Then he suggested I return to
the hospital for a spinal tap to take pressure off the leak and see if it would heal that way.
I'd had the spinal tap in for a day or so and was really struggling with it when, on the second night, my nurse asked if I would like some vicodin or
morphine for the pain and discomfort. By now I had developed a cyst full of spinal fluid under the (closed) incision, and any pressure on my low back
sent a lightning bolt down my leg. I had been switching off between vicodin and morphine depending on how bad it was, and this time I asked for the
morphine. We discussed the dose, because I didn't want too much, and she gave me 2cc's. She left the room and I must have nodded off because the
next thing I knew, I was up around the ceiling and headed out the door of my hospital room. I didn't realize at first that I wasn't in my body, and
I never looked back into my room or anything. I went out the door of my room and took a left down the hallway. I made a right into what turned out
to be the pharmacy or break room. I realized at this point that I wasn't in my body because I went right through the door without opening it. There
were some open cupboards full of what looked like linen and gowns across the room in front of me, and to my left were two people standing over a small
countertop or mini-refrigerator. There was something on the countertop between them I could just barely make out. My perspective was up high, like
from the ceiling or something. One of the individuals was my nurse, and the other was a male with his back to me. My nurse became aware of me
somehow right away, and prompted the male with his back to me that I was there. I got the feeling that I had interrupted them, and wasn't welcome.
The male turned and looked up at me, kind of hunching his shoulders and leaning away, and my nurse was looking at me, too. Both pairs of eyes were a
blazing electric blue. It kind of freaked me out. The male waved his arm at me, and I couldn't hear anything, but I could swear he hissed. The
message I got was 'get out of here'. I must have moved backwards out the door, through the hall, and into my room because the next thing I knew I
was in my body again, awake, and asking myself what on earth just happened to me. A few minutes later, the male nurse that I had seen during my OOBE
but not up until that point from my body looked in the door and asked if everything was ok. I recognized him immediately, except his eyes weren't
glowing electric blue anymore.
In the days that followed, I was able to get up and around a little. I re-traced the route I took in my OOBE, and looked in the window of the room I
had entered. Sure enough, there was an open cupboard full of linens and gowns across the room, and a mini-refrigerator with a little counter on top
inside to the left. Weird. There was no way I could have seen any of this on my way into the hospital. I had been in excrutiating pain and
immediately admitted through the ER to my bed, where I lay down and was immediately medicated.
The spinal tap didn't work, either, and I ended up having corrective surgery to seal my thecal sack and stop the leak. I've always wondered what
was I doing up by the ceiling like that, and why were the nurses' eyes glowing electric blue? Any thoughts or feedback or sharing of similar
experiences from other members would be greatly appreciated.