Sheilaclapkin's Blog;

I elected to have both procedures back-to-back, one with dye and one without so I could be done, done! The Radiologist and the Neurologist seemed to disagree on what they saw or didn’t see, so you understand, I went back into the tunnel. For those of you who have never experienced an MRI, you are rolled into an enclosed tunnel with noises clanging constantly and you are enclosed alone without any outside awareness.

All is well, but during the elongated procedures I had moments when I thought I was talking to God.   I was alone, all by myself, who else could get in there? God! Oh sure, that’s what you think little lady, sure talking to God. Right, that is what I think. And for your enlightenment I learned God is inside of me, and you, too.

The world and all of my normal contacts were shut out. For these finite moments in time, enlightenments kept coming. I began to walk into a forest, dark in its depths; the sky was cloud, and mist covered. Drearily, I walk on in pain, dull and aching. Where am I and where am I going? Eyes closed, I continue with thoughts of my life as I remember it.

Eyes open, I continue walking down roads leading to cottages of unknowns, never to be known. Knowing I am gone from my world, not even a spot, a dot, a mark of any kind to recognize,I hold on to a sachet made of lemon rinds and lavender given so lovingly by two people with hidden faces, hair like my mother and hair like my father, gone long ago.

I am taken. Gently turned on to an unworn path, easily missed if not known. Forward, forward, forward into the woods Density. The trees have allowed no light to form shadows. As time passes, I fret. Finally, an arrival and the wait begins. Not a soul to greet me. I notice that this part of the forest has sprouted ferns. I wait. I turn in all directions. I am comfortable. I am talking to someone, but cannot see an image.

The voice is soft and masculine and feminine all together in tonal harmony. The tonal voice comforts and praises, advises and challenges, gives and expects. I lie listening. A hand is thrust towards me in a most welcoming manner. I take it, feeling instant gentleness as the hand guides me further into the forest and down a path leading to a sheltered building. The hand let mine go for the moment, and clung to handles to assist the double glass doors to swing open allowing me to see shelves and shelves of books, dusty and pealing. Next, I lowered my gaze and saw the room was over crowded with people in ancient, classic, and modern, clothes using various textiles and designs. It felt like it was a Halloween party without so much as a peep. The austere quietness offered me an opportunity to gaze undisturbed for moments on end.

A whisper was telling me that all of my ancestors; forbearers, present, and future were gathered here to wish me onward. Voices sounded in syllables, but languages ancient and incomprehensible, mixed with the understandable gave me a dizzying spell. Righting myself, I realized, I would live longer and be able to produce, endure, comprehend, create, and continue the entitlements of aging. I give thanks to the old souls who gathered together, if only for a moment or two, to wish me well and to share with me some wisdom of the ages.

One hour and forty-five minutes later, I am rolled out of the tunnel; I rose, climbed onto a step, dressed, tucked my secret adventure in my mind, and came home to share it with you.