My friend and colleague passed today at 1505, in bed 285, of the ICU at the hospital where we both had worked. I'd known him and worked with him for ten years. One of his favorite sayings was 'your OCD is compatible with MY OCD'.
He didn't suffer fools. He liked to work with me.
Early on, his father passed of lung cancer. He was very sad over the loss. His father loved France. Here I was, half French, and my own father had passed recently too from pulmonary fibrosis.
He was always in a hurry. I knew both his brother and his father had died of lung cancer. I just didn't know if he hurried because it was his personality or if he felt he had an expiration date.
He had a habit of saying 'Si!' to mean 'yes' in Spanish in answers to questions, which was comical because he was in fact, Vietnamese.
His story of leaving Vietnam was a flight was going from the military base where his dad worked. There was darkness, they were hiding in a office his dad had worked in. When the time came, he had to poop. He was just a kid. He didn't know where to poop. His dad said, 'poop here in the office and let's go!'
It was a family joke that the poop was his last gift to his country.
I feel like this right now.
The pressure was so much.
I knew from the diagnosis two years ago that it would end like this. I saw it. The gift of being psychic doesn't feel like much when you understand people you love are going to pass away in front of you.
I wanted to be open and share with him. He didn't want to talk.
I had the visions.
I gathered my courage and told him I could hear him once he's on the other side.
The Buddha gave him messages, and I shared them with him.
He didn't want to do the work. It was frustrating to see him fight it to the death, and lose. He did many treatments that ruined both his looks and his health. He would go to work with big patches and blotches on his skin. When the mets came to the brain, he wanted radiation. When they kept coming at him, he wanted the cyber knife. By then they were in the liver.
And the breathing! It just got worse and worse.
My colleague the chief of surgery is the one he chose to take care of him after the ICU fiasco at a neighboring hospital. We are friends. Together we weathered the storms of his denial, and the demand for essentially, concierge service with her being available by text 24/7 and making visits to the home.
She charted everything.
She never charged a cent for any of the work she did.
When his pain got severe, he asked for me to help him. I'm not a pain specialist. But I figured out continuous fentanyl patches would help.
On Thursday he asked me for more pain medicine. There was crampy pain in his abdomen. My intuition flashed, I understood at once it was the beginning of the end. Something was going ischemic inside of him, the dying process was soon to begin. I told him I would make some chess moves on the pain meds, but perhaps since it was the abdomen perhaps his primary care the chief of surgery would best address it?
Throughout, she was careful to fix anything that could be fixed, and to stay resolute and calm.
There was a night where he needed high flow oxygen. They ran out of every tank they had at the home.
He still didn't understand he was dying. He and his wife thought maybe he had developed tolerance for it, and should wean down.
My friend told him his CT scans were worse, the disease had progressed, and it looked horrible. She was in pain to tell them that. But she wanted to be honest and give them respect.
He still didn't believe it. Nor the wife. They weren't so sure.
But the feeling of being like a fish out of water on room air, was starting to happen with the high flow. oxygen too. He was admitted. He and his wife were hoping for a clinical trial, a hail-Mary pass, which was to begin in a few weeks. If you needed more than five liters per minute of oxygen you were not eligible for the test. So the wife tried to dial the oxygen down.
He went into ventricular tachycardia.
She stopped touching his oxygen.
I spent an hour on Sunday with him. I realized he loved his brother in law, and had seen him every day, except for the last three weeks when the brother in law was on vacation. The brother in law moved his feet for him and said, 'he likes to run'. He tickled the ears because there are the pressure points which connect to the body. And we talked. His brother in law would open the hands and place them on the pillow. The ailing doctor looked like a king. He was very clean. I explained the drips and what they were doing to the brother in law. I shared I knew him long time, and was also helping with the pain meds. I commented while we were touching the ears, one on each side, that he used to have such nice hair, and now it was gone.
The brother in law smiled, and showed me a tiny patch coming back after the radiation, at the crown of the head. It meant so much.
I gave the Transition Symbol quickly and subtly when I was touching the left foot helping him 'run'. And I knew his spirit was listening. I told him many times, 'you look good!' because he was very private and very concerned with his appearance after the disease. I exclaimed how the skin was no longer blotchy and it looked healthy again.
He's already been talking to me from Spirit side, even before he left the body.
The first was 'this Spirit stuff is REAL!' and 'keep talking to people about it'.
The second was when I was going from my car to the hotel while I was on call. He was astonished, and said, 'I had NO IDEA'. His awareness is going up.
I saw him, he looked good, in his Navy uniform, and he gave me a salute , yesterday. I knew he had decided to go when he made that gesture.
I was getting my hair worked on while he passed. I didn't know he was passing. I did see Ross smiling at me, very big, very intently, and he called me, 'my bride'. He even got down on one knee to ask me to marry him. I said yes, I always say yes and I always love it when he asks.
It wasn't until a little later I hadn't heard from my friend his doctor, that I texted her a photo that said, 'Positivity is a Super Power!' and encouraged her.
She told me the time of death. And when I asked, the particulars. It was quick and painless, the family was there, and also a Buddhist priest.
I commended my friend for being the one he asked her to be, she was strong, polite, kind, and professional in every way, even to the end. She saw he was deteriorating clinically, told the wife 'it's time', and they withdrew support (breathing tube and blood pressure raising medicine). It was over in fifteen minutes.
He chose well.
Earlier this evening, he told me he can see everything from where he is. All of time. It's spread out before him. And he was smiling big. He tells me the future is good, my future is good, and so is Anthony's.
Ross
I'd like to have a word with my Carla.
There is no death.
Only Life.
That is the message I want everyone to receive.
And also, something like this.
Carla give them the vision from the earliest blog post--https://reikidoc.blogspot.com/2019/06/a-conversation.html. I highly encourage you to read this.
There is no 'time'. Everything IS and at the perfect time and place and conditions for learning. That is why Carla was able to sneak ahead with her view.
clap! clap!
Aloha and Mahalos,
Namaste,
Peace,
Ross and Carla
RIP Khiem 12//14/1964 - 10/22/2019
