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It happened on June 23, 2021, and my life completely changed in 48 hours. I had gone to the doctor the day before because I felt terrible. My throat was swollen, I was unable to speak or even swallow my saliva. My legs were swollen, and small bruises and little red spots had appeared on my body without me having hit anything for about ten days, and I felt very tired. The doctor told me to have a blood test the next morning on an empty stomach and prescribed me rest for my angina and compression stockings for my legs. I told myself that my legs must have swollen with the heat, and due to long days standing up. I attributed the fatigue to the fact that I was doing twice as much work as usual, since I was replacing my colleague who was on leave, my work was quite physically demanding, and the days were long. I went home after the consultation and went to bed. I was alone with my daughter. My spouse had gone on vacation to a friend's house and my son was No longer living with us at that time. I had had a difficult year, my 13-year-old daughter having suffered from depression with a high risk of suicide; she had had to be hospitalized. Then, she was scheduled to be transferred to another facility, but until there was a space, she was back home. And even if she was a little better, there was always a risk of that she might decide to act. I was very worried about her at that time. I was fighting for her. My spouse was also suffering from depression, so I supported him too. As for my 15-year-old son, we had argued a few days before and he had gone to stay with his father. It was difficult for me. During the night, I developed a great fever. Usually, I'm in good health, and I know that I heal well ... but at that time, my condition was deteriorating, and I felt that the situation was slipping away from me. At two o'clock in the morning, I woke up my daughter so that she would call the SAMU (NDT: Emergency services in France). Since I couldn't speak, I wrote down what my daughter should say on the phone, but the caller didn't take us seriously. As far as he was concerned, I suffered from severe angina, whereas I felt it was much more serious than that, but I understand, I did not have the strength to insist. So, I waited until 6:30 am on the morning of June 23. I tried to get out to go to the lab to do the blood test. I didn't succeed, I was on the verge of fainting; I passed in front of the nursing practice downstairs from my apartment, and I tried to go there, but it was closed. I called their number on the list outside; I got their answering machine which gave me a mobile number. And so much the better, because I still couldn't speak. Thanks to that, I was able to write an SMS explaining my situation. The nurse responded quickly; she came during the morning. I went back to bed to wait for the results. Around 4:30 p.m., I knew from the first results that something serious was happening. I texted my spouse to come home. I had to insist, because he didn't understand why I was cutting his vacation short. He ended up hitting the road. In the meantime, I received a call from my general practitioner who told me that I had something serious and that I had to urgently go to the hospital, that I was expected there because she had warned them of my impending arrival. I called back my spouse, and he hurried to finish his trip. I arrived at the hospital around 6:30 p.m. It was very difficult to walk, my body was exhausted, but I made it. Once there, I was impressed because I was greeted by a professor from the hematology department. And that was not good, otherwise it would have been a doctor, not a professor. She told me that I had acute myeloid leukemia, a blood cancer. She told me I was in danger because my results were very bad. That they would do their best to help me, but that it would be long and difficult. I thanked her in writing for telling me things as they were. My blood was acting weird, they couldn't insert a drip. At 7:30 p.m., the teacher made the decision to transfer me to the intensive care unit so that I could be taken care of more quickly if I suffered a failure, and so as to insert bigger catheters. The only way to save me at that time was to circulate my blood through a machine that would filter it. The doctors couldn't believe I was still perky with a blast (cancer cell) rate of 92% in my blood. I was No longer afraid now that I was in the hospital. Something told me to keep believing. I never lost consciousness, the catheters were inserted under local anesthesia in both groins and in the neck. So, I had seven or eight people around me. I was hooked up to heart monitoring devices. The problem is that they couldn't manage. I saw them struggling, they looked at each other apologetically, they took turns and I clearly felt that they were experiencing difficulties. One doctor said: "I can't do it, it’s not working". It was hard for the entire team. After a long period of time, around 10.30 pm, I saw a kind of diaphanous light that invaded the room, intensifying and superimposing itself onto the physical world. It was soft and pure and wonderful, so shiny, but not dazzling. I felt that the light was actually pure love. I have No words to describe it better. It's much more intense than I can express. I felt so good, bathed in light, loved like I didn't know it was possible to love. I could see and hear the doctors and nurses very clearly, but everything was bathed in light. Nothing mattered to me anymore, except for this state of supreme well-being, as I had never been able to feel it before. An immense joy, my heart and soul filled with love, the body so light, as if I No longer felt it in fact. But I didn't leave my body, I just didn't feel it anymore. I was in a state of perfect bliss, supreme enlightenment, Happiness ... and this love, so great that it’s difficult for me to describe it. Then, I felt the presence of three people on my right, one closer to me, and two behind. I didn't see them, but I knew very clearly that they were there. Their presence was distinct, very strong, and benevolent. It was as if I had known them forever, without being able to say who they were. They radiated Love; they too were made of Love. Then, I very clearly received the following message: "It’s not your time yet, but you have a choice whether to stay or not. Know, however, that if you decide to stay, everything will be fine." It was a different path from mine, but I heard it in my soul, just like when you hear your inner voice. It was gentle and assured. I knew it was the truth. I thought of my children and then I became aware of the words: “I will stay.” Just as I started to formulate my thought, and before I had finished pronouncing the last syllable in my head, the room returned to normal, the light and the presences disappeared, and I heard a first doctor say happily: “It’s working, I'm succeeding!” Then another added: “That’s it, I've done it!” The third drip was placed immediately afterwards. I could finally be hooked up to the filtration machine. I again became aware of my body, heavy and painful ... but I was alive! I carried within me the joy of having experienced all this Love; I smiled. One of the doctors said: “She’s close to death and she's smiling.” I nodded: “Yes.” If I could have spoken, I would have told him not to speak of me in the third person when I was in front of him. But I don't blame him; I think he didn't understand my reaction. I couldn't sleep, I thought about what I had just experienced; I fell asleep from exhaustion at 4.30 a.m. I don't know how long the experience lasted. I lost track of time between 10:30 p.m. and midnight. The next day, one of the doctors told me: “We caught you by your suspenders, in a mouse hole.” It was his way of saying “in extremis.” I was supposed to stay one week in the intensive care unit. I ended up staying there for four days. Then, I was transferred to a room. I know that what I experienced was real; it was even very real! It took me a few weeks to process everything that had just happened. The treatments are cumbersome, and the risk of dying remains throughout the chemotherapy process. First, because of possible reactions to the drugs, then, because of the risk of infections since it completely destroys the immune system. And despite everything, I went through this ordeal with confidence. I returned home for good four months later. I spent the end of year festivities with my children. Something which I had promised them. My daughter got a slot in a care center shortly after I was admitted to the hospital. She was discharged from the hospital two weeks after me. She regained a zest for life, and also resumed her schooling brilliantly, even though she had missed out almost a year. I'm proud of her. She understood what I told her about my near-death experience. She had faith, seeing my self-confidence, and was not afraid that I would die. My son has reconciled with me. He went through tough times, but he changed a lot. He became benevolent towards others; he chose to turn to the Christian religion, although I never spoke to him about religion. He has matured and I'm proud of him too. I don't know if his spiritual turn-around is related to the story of my experience.