When I was 14, I had meningococcal meningitus, and was in a coma for 10 days. I don't remember even falling ill, but for a week, I was hooked up to breathing machines, and could have died at any time. I do, however remember being aware at times that I was in the coma. There is no colour there, everyting is grey. I was dimly aware that there was another world, as if it was through opaque glass. Sometimes, I wasn't alone in there but I never saw anyone just sensed them. They were there to collect me, if I were to reach a point where I would consider taking a choice. I was aware of there being a choice, but there was no urgency to make it. I wasn't even aware what the choice was (but I am now) The place was grey, and there were no physical features. I had no body, but there wasn't any feeling of strangeness. The texture of the place was kind of greasy, like electrically charged, thicker than air, and if I had had any physical form, my hair would have been statically charged. The grey nothing had what felt like folds and corners too, although there was nothing to actually see or touch. The grey seemed to be an awareness, rather than a nothingness. There was always a sense of waiting, like an empty station. And then I was awake, and in hospital. I felt very old. I was weak, but recovered enough to return home in 4 days. I was left with only one complication. Before I was ill, I was right handed, and after I recovered I was left handed. I haven't been ill since. My dreams are now vivid and cinematic. I am often lucid during them, and at these times I am aware of the grey's presence, although not all enveloping me like before, just that I know it is there.
Still it is waiting, but patient. Not in any hurry. I am also aware that it is very close at all times, just a heartbeat away, in fact. But this isn't anything to cause concern, it's just that I familiarised myself with it, in my coma. You all are probably aware of it as well, but not having had it wrap you up, don't know what it is, just a vagueness. When you do see it, it will be familiar to you as well. So that is my relationship with death. A little more intimate than most people's, I suspect, but I can live with that. It's not hostile, or longing to claim me, or anything, it's just there, on the boundary. Always peripheral. OK, Thanks, I be back.