Death

I have stared death in the face many times. Every instance happened so fast, you have no time to process. Afterwards your mind runs through the scenario a 1,000 times a 1,000 different ways. If inches or angles had just been a little different, you’d be dead, instead of the other guy. Finally my day came, it was my turn.
At 10k ft, on a bleak snow spotted mountain top on the Afghan/Paki border, I died.
A single 7.62x53r round fired from a PKM struck me in the back under my left shoulder blade. As it passed fully through, 2 ribs were shattered, my heart was lightly damaged, and two large holes were punched in my left lung, diaphram, stomach, and spleen. My left peck was split, and my left phrenic nerve destroyed.
We returned fire, and I called on the radio we had been hit. Although my SAW gunner was struck in the foot, fully shattering his heel bone, he was returning fire and giving direction to my 203 gunner. I directed my team down into a rocky defilade and stripped off my kit and top. I have extensive medical training myself, so knew what was coming. I wasn’t panicked or afraid, I was pissed off. Once the wound was exposed, I realized that I was hurt bad, because as I used two fingers to stuff my dangling peck back into my chest, I felt no pain.
The medic was on top of me in no time, and the 3rd needle decompression resulted in pure blood, not good. Next step, chest tube with no drugs.
Quite the experience.
The pain of even the tiniest breath become unbearable in the moments leading up to the dust offs arrival. First I just took a quick break from the effort and the pain. Then a little longer, and a little longer, then I fully let go. I remember the sensation very clearly, not like it was in my head, but like it was physical. I was struggling to climb into the side of a boat. The sides were too high and I just couldn’t kick hard enough, I just wasn’t strong enough, so I just relaxed, stopped fighting, and let go of the side.
It felt like I was slowly sinking in warm water. My hearing faded away, and everything turned white like milk had been poured in the water.
I was suddenly overwhelmed with a feeling I can only describe as nostalgia. Like when you go back home after a long time away.
I felt no pain, no fear, only the feeling of nostalgia, with a strong feeling of contentment, of satisfaction.
Then suddenly it was gone, suddenly I was not dead anymore. The sensation I woke too is what I imagine it’s like to be crushed by a pallet of 2x6’s.
Rocks and dirt was flying everywhere as I was lifted into a 60 that was hovering just several feet off the rock ledge.
As the door to the 60 closed, I remember having the odd thought of this being my first 60 ride ever with the doors closed. Just like the moment I knew I was hurt bad, I had a moment where I knew I was going to be okay. As they unloaded me at the CaSH, I remember realizing I was naked, it was fekkn cold, and it seemed everyone unloading me was cute nurses. I remember mumbling “it’s cold and I lost a bunch of blood” if you get what I mean, then I passed out as the bright lights inside hit me.

Long story short, eventually everyone gets their chance to die. It doesn’t hurt, so no need to worry about that. Just worry about living the best you can each day, strive to keep moving forward, and everything will work itself out