More to dying than meets the eye: Martha Atkins at TEDxSanAntonio 2013

Transcriber: Nadine Hennig Reviewer: Fatima Zahra El Hafa I would like all of you to be transported back in time with me. Let's go back to 1932. Then my mother went with her family to a house in 1932 and she told me about going upstairs. I'm taking a little break to the right and there was a room there. There were flowers. There were people talking. She was small, so she looks at everyone. And the deceased was there, lying on a chair between two boards between, well, it wasn't that big, a board, two chairs. How many of you have seen something like this?

Yes, if you are of a certain age, maybe. We had some hands raised. Fabulous. We have taken death out of the home, and when we take death out of the home, we stop learning about death and what to do about it. And we stop learning how to do something or what to do and we get scared. And when something scares us, we often stop talking about it. So in this country... We don't talk about death and

dying

very often. I'm a death educator and researcher, and that drives me a little crazy. So today we are going to talk about death and

dying

.

I want to start by telling you about my mother. My mother opted for hospice care in 2005 and she and I had many frank conversations. One afternoon I said to her, "Mom, you might have some visitors when it's time to go. You might have angels or family. I don't know who will show up, but someone might show up. Will you tell me?" If someone's coming?" And she walks down the hall and looks over her shoulder and says, "It depends on who it is." (Laughs) Well, I have no idea what that means. Four months later, she was in bed from the hospital, in her living room, her eyes were closed and I was watching her trace something, something under her eyelids.

I said, "Mom, what do you see?" She said, "Daddy Charlie, grandma, mom and dad." , Uncle Claude, Aunt Nala." He has a beautiful smile on his face. I said, "Where are they?" "Walking down the road from the farm." My brother Jim had disappeared about 13 years ago. He had died about 13 years before and I expected him to be there. I dreamed that he was sitting in a chair, legs crossed, reading a book. Then I said, "Mom, where is Jim?" "Oh, he's been here the night he died." , my mother was reaching for something I couldn't see, and I didn't know then that that was part of the deathbed phenomenon until I started my research.

And here are some other things I learned. For six centuries, anecdotal accounts and a bit of research have detailed the auditory, visual and tactile experiences of those approaching death. Most of the time people are welcomed by friends or family. Its purpose seems to be to help the dying person in the experience of death. And most of the time these visions are comforting. People see angels. People see religious entities that are important to them culturally. You might see the Buddha, the Virgin Mary, or Yama, the Hindu god of death. People see landscapes. People listen to music. Children have child-friendly visions.

There's a story about a hospice... There was a children's hospital here in San Antonio in the '80s. And the story said there was a child there who was dying. He complained to the nurse about the noise in the corner, about the noisy kids in the corner. The nurse looked and there was no one. She said, "Who's there?" And she mentioned three names of three children who had been in that hospital before he got there. These experiences occur all over the world, in all religions, in all cultures, in all ages. They happen to blind people, they happen to deaf people.

Some researchers say this is the limbic system going crazy. They are pure hallucinations. These are embedded memories of a lifetime coming to light. Others say this is proof of the existence of souls after death. Neither side can prove their hypothesis, and my guess is this: it doesn't matter - I'm sorry to all the scientists in the room - it doesn't matter why they happen, it matters that they happen. In my research, I talked to people who are at the bedside when someone is dying. One wife told me that one afternoon she was talking to her husband and said, "Do you ever see or hear anyone?" She said that, in her opinion, he was completely lucid.

She had taken some painkiller. She was doing Sudoku and she said, "Yes, there's a soldier who comes and stands next to my bed at night and keeps me company. Can't you see him standing there at attention? And there's a dog who comes." He comes in and lies at my feet in the afternoon." And he went on to describe the beloved family pet that had been his at the beginning of his marriage. Witnesses at my investigation spoke of how they saw something happening and knew they didn't need to do anything about it. So when Mrs. Harrison walked in and saw Mr.

Harrison talking to someone, she was a little perplexed, but she asked him about it. He was terrified of dying. He had suffered horrible abuse as a child, he was afraid of dying and he was afraid that his. Instead, this seven-year-old boy named Jimmy appeared on the scene. Mrs. Harrison said she accepted him. She said, "I really didn't know what else to do. I just kept going." And Jimmy stayed with. Mr. Harrison the last two weeks of his life kept him company and helped make his transition easier as he left this world. Witnesses told how they recognized that the phenomena that were happening They were signs that death was near, even though experts said it wasn't.

They saw the signs and knew the difference between hallucinations and visions. So, to them, hallucinations had no context and were frightening and anxiety-provoking. , unlike visions, which did have a context and gave them great comfort. Now, when I work with families, I tell them: "Your person can see things that you can't see, they can hear things that you can't, they can. reach the sky, can look through you, can speak out loud." metaphors about moving, leaving or going, even if they are bedridden, need their shoes, or need their map, or need their bag, or need to get there to the stadium.

When Mom said, just before her three-year-old son died, he said, "Dad, the train is here. I have to go now." For that mother and for other people in my research, these visions, these deathbed phenomena, were of great comfort to them. When we educate families about these experiences and educate the patient about these experiences, there is less fear. And, my goodness, we need less fear around death and dying. I had the opportunity to work with a patient named Butch who was 94 years old, had congestive heart failure, and decided he needed to come in. hospice. He was ready.

One afternoon I received a text from his daughter saying that the visions had started and that everything was fine. Her daughter talked about Butch being in the other room often and this is the language she used to refer to him. talking to the invisibles, instead of here, talking to the daughter and the other people in the room. And he was often in the other room. So one afternoon, I forgot to say: Butch was a pretty famous rugby player. South Africa in his time So one afternoon, in the other room, the rugby team came to visit Butch.

Now his family had also come. His parents, his brothers and sisters had come. But there was the rugby team. The rugby team had arrived up very long stairs. I went down, stayed with him and they had a great party. And then the rugby team left. They left shorter stairs. And Butch was upset because the stairs were too short and he couldn't get to where they were. Another day he got angry because his suitcase was packed and he was ready to leave, and they left without him. Another day, he held out his hand and said to his daughter, "I have these machine parts.

I don't want to lose them." This is a very common metaphor for the dying. There's a bigger picture and the piece of it is missing, and they have to make sure it's complete. He has these pieces in his hand. He went and got a Ziploc. Let me tell you why I love that: because

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often than not, people turn to medication to quell something they don't understand. And they miss the opportunity to connect with the person. They lose the opportunity to meet the dying person where they are. She didn't miss it. Is any of this real?

I say yes." Yes, it's real, because it's real to the people it happens to. I don't know how to measure those things that are beyond our ordinary human capacity to understand. I'm a researcher. I don't know how to measure amazement. I know what it feels like. I know what it feels like. And I know that I feel very comforted when I think that my mom didn't leave this world alone, and that the boy took that train and Butch had his friends nearby before he left. people at parties for the first time, think about how fun it is. "What do you do?" Me, the sex girl and the bacteria guy can all go to the party together (Laughs) Then I met them and this. happened.

It's: "That's really nice. I'm going to go have a drink." And I never see them again. (Laughter) Or something happens like what happened today at lunch. "Let me tell you a story. He was afraid to tell anyone because he didn't want anyone to think he was crazy. And I said, "Oh my God." I want to hear your story. Please tell me your story." It is these stories, yours and mine, that will bring comfort, hope and calm as we help those we love leave this world, and as it is our time to go. So, if you have You had a deathbed vision experience, a testimony experience with someone you love, would you raise your hand?

Ok, I would like you, in the next 48 hours, to tell someone about it, the

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we tell our stories. more we count. Let's eradicate this fear. And it's really important. Steve Jobs said six words before he died on October 5, 2011: "I want to invite you to participate in your own sense of wonder as I leave you today. wide open minds," were Steve Jobs' last words, "Oh, wow. Oh, wow. Oh wow!" Thank you. (Applause)