My wife is an RN and she was on float to another unit helping out (she normally worked cardiac but she was helping out in the Alzheimer’s unit). She was saving a particular patient for last as the patient was known to be a real pain. Very old, mean to everyone and just generally tried to make the nurses miserable. She and the respiratory therapist got to the patients room at the same time so they decided to tackle her together. They got into the room and the patient had smeared shit all over the walls of the bathroom and the hospital room, she was standing on the bed screaming and jumping up and down on the bed. The two of them somehow got the patient calmed down, got the horrible mess cleaned up, and got their jobs done. She said it took about three hours. They then got went out and put a do not disturb sign on the door to make sure the patient could stay calm and get some sleep. They were standing one person on each side of the door (herself and the respiratory therapist) catching their breath and proclaiming how much that sucked when they spotted someone. A big farmer looking guy wearing a John Deere baseball cap, overalls, a red plaid checkered shirt and big work boots coming down the hospital hallway (and he looked kind of annoyed). He walked right past them into the patient’s room slamming the door open. My wife caught the door on the backswing and marched right into the room after him (respiratory therapist right behind her) planning on dragging him back out and giving him a piece of her mind. When she got in the room he was not there.
No sign of the person she followed in.
She looked under the bed.
She looked in the bathroom.
She checked behind all of the curtains.
She even made sure the window still would not open.
No sign of the farmer at all. She then noticed the patient was sitting upright in the bed just kind of staring off into space.
So she asked her: “Did you just see someone come into the room?” The patient said “Yes, it was my daddy; he said he was coming to take me home tonight and that you mean people won’t be able to hurt me anymore.” She responded with: “That’s great, how about you get some rest before he comes to pick you up.” The patient then lay down and went to sleep. The patient died that night.
My wife and the respiratory therapist swapped stories to make sure they were not crazy, they both saw it.
My parents were out one night and my brother and I were home alone. We were probably 12 and 10, respectively. Anyway, there’s a knock at the door and I hear a voice say “Pizza.” Initially thinking it was my father playing a joke I instinctively went to open the door when it hit me…
That wasn’t my dad’s voice.
“We didn’t order any pizza” I said. There was no reply and no audible movement. I went to my bathroom window which allows some vision of the footpath leading from the front of our property to the front door but you can’t see the door itself. So we waited for about 15 minutes clutching a cricket bat and some ornamental fireplace poker until finally the dude moves away from the door and walks away.
Just some guy with dark hair in a long ponytail, a long dark coat and no pizza.
One morning I woke up to my grandmotehr calling my cellphone. I was upstairs, and it was weird for her to call me.
“There’s something wrong with your father.”
So, I came downstairs and she was in the hallway looking towards the living room where my father was on the flat of his back not moving.
I went to him and tried to see what was wrong. he was cold. I ushered my grandmother into the kitchen to sit down. and called 911. In the meantime, I started CPR.
He was down for hours, must have died during the night.
There is a certain type of desperation when you’re doing CPR on your own father. I’ve done it before, when being trained, and a few times over the years in emergency situations. but this was different. I was doing CPR, and the phone was on my shoulder, and I was telling my grandmother everything was going to be alright at the same time trying not to lose it myself. Then a big mouthful of cold dead black blood came up.
I’m not sure how much I swallowed. I know some went to my sinuses and came out my nose. This froze my entire soul. I could taste my fathers cold dead blood. My brain shut off dead for a minute. I don’t remember getting up and going to the sink. In that missing time I had gotten up went into the kitchen and was trying to wash his blood off of my face. I had my grandmother behind me asking what was wrong, but I couldn’t talk. I couldn’t even think barely. I was just trying to wash that smell, that taste out of my mouth and nose.
That was four years ago. I still wake up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat, and all I can smell or taste is my fathers dead blood.
I hid this for years. I kinda had a mental breakdown, and lost it for 2 years. Didn’t tell a soul. Eventually I told my boyfriend. I had an irrational fear if i ever told him he’d never want to kiss me again. but he did. so that’s ok. I hope I’m never in another situation where I have to do CPR, because I don’t honestly think I could do it.