If you ever wondered if people who are in a coma can hear you, then my answer to that would be a solid, “kind of.” 

One of the strangest things about being in a coma for me was that I never knew that I was in one. When they intubated me and had me under, I had no idea that was happening. Instead, my brain concocted a very convoluted narrative, taking me on an epic odyssey that spanned decades. Seemingly, time dilation is a possible side effect. The worst of it all was that it all felt utterly real to me. As real as I am sitting here typing this, or as real as you are there reading this. The real takeaway from this is that the journey I was on was taking its queues from external inputs from what was happening around me. 

With what I was experiencing, looking back now, it is obvious that what those around me were talking about were feeding into my narrative while under. A bad example of this is that someone spoke about preparations for my eventual demise. Let us be honest, things were very grim at the start. What ended up happening for me, though, is that I sat there in my dreamworld, reading a colour newspaper article that had images from my funeral. Even quotes from family members and people I worked with. It felt utterly real. It further convinced me that my body had been sold for medical research, which then led down a whole other narrative. Again, being fed by the information I was noticing from outside. The noises from the machines, people talking about my condition, my partner, and daughter begging for me to come back to them. 

I would like you to consider that for a few moments. Especially if you are visiting someone in hospital who is going through their own journey. It is highly likely that what is being said around them is informing the place they find themselves in. It is always difficult to remain positive all the time, but you can benefit from the advantage of being able to step out of the room for when it gets too difficult. I did not have that luxury. Trapped where I was, I kept descending further and further down a very disturbing path. 

Being a prisoner in a place conjured from the darkest recesses of your mind, can you even begin to conceptualise that? Everyone’s idea of torture and what they can endure will be vastly different, but trying to make sense of the pain that your body is experiencing rarely is going to translate into happy thoughts. For most of us, at least. 

It provided me with the clearest understanding of “I think, therefore, I am.” 

At the end of the day, all our brain is doing is taking in all the inputs feeding into it and then presenting it to us in a manner which we can understand. It provided me with the clearest understanding of “I think, therefore, I am.” 

Which is also the most important thing, too. Not thinking, well, I am glad it did not come to that. 

So, take comfort in this too. I have had several conversations with people since coming home, who all wondered if their loved one I could hear them before they passed away. I could only tell them my experience, that yes, I was able to but to differing levels of understanding. I was confused, but things got through. It is worth being there, and not giving up, you are more likely than not making a difference for that person.  

I have spoken with some people about the benefits of music, or something for those in comas, to listen to. It might have made the experience more bearable if I was not left to my own imagination. Some kind of guided journey, like subliminal messaging or lucid dreaming techniques? I am sure better minds than mine have considered this. There is just an additional level of comfort that could help with long-term recovery post trauma. I believe most of my PTSD has been rooted in this period of psychosis and delirium. Think of this as something I would like someone to try should I ever find myself in that situation again. 

Let me be utterly clear. I never ever want to find myself in that kind of situation again. 

I do think it is a worthy area of research, almost the first step of recovery. Or, just making someone as comfortable as possible in an impossible situation. My family put my favourite music onto a tablet to play. When someone is in ICU, you really have run out of time to make new regrets. It is god’s waiting room, one foot is in the grave… you get the idea.  

So take the chance to be there and talk, read, play their favourite music, and just act like they are there and wide awake before saying anything that you might not want them to hear. 

Ideally, this is something you never will have to deal with. Or it is the last thing you ever have to deal with. 

Momento mori.