From nurses and physicians
Here's a collection of testimonials from nurses and doctors who describe the last words of their patients before they go into eternal sleep.
“Fire! Fire! There’s fire everywhere!”
I had an old lady flag me down in the hallway a few days before she [passed] and with her emaciated face and bulging eyes, she said:
'You know where I'm going.'
I asked her what she meant and she repeated herself:
'You know where I'm going when I [pass]. And it ain't up.'
I was taken aback and asked her if she wanted to talk with the priest we have on staff. She shook her head and said:
'It's too late for that.'
A few days later, she was eating her supper and started screaming. She yelled:
'Fire! Fire! There's fire everywhere!'
She [passed] a few hours later, quite suddenly. I didn't sleep that night and I really hope her soul found some rest.
“Am I dead? I’m in hell.”
I’m a lab person, and I had to go to the ER to draw blood from a code stroke patient that just came in, because the EMTs couldn’t get it. I got there it was just me and him before he went to CT and he looked at me and said:
‘Am I dead? I’m in hell.'
He died a couple hours later. Poor old man.”
"I see a bright light... Horses... No eyes... No... NO... NOOO!"
ER physician here, had heard many last words from patients, but the creepiest one has to be of a man who was on his last breaths as he succumbed to renal failure. He said:
'I see a bright light... Horses... No eyes... No... NO... NOOO!'
As he loudly yelled, at this point he was crashing when he suddenly woke up, looked up, and with his last breath he said:
And he [passed]. We know in the medical field that these situations are provoked by a cascade of neurotransmitters in disarray due to tissue and organ failure, but I sometimes have my doubts and perhaps we are seeing more than we are lead to believe.
"He's in all black, and he's got a top hat on and his eyes are red"
A nice old lady who told my CNA she wanted to wear all white. When asked why, she said:
'The man in black is here.'
She looked in the corner of the room. The CNA looked, but there was no one there. That's when I came into the room. We asked her to describe what she was seeing and she said:
'He's in all black, and he's got a top hat on.'
Then she whispered:
'And his eyes are red'
While her eyes moved across the room to directly behind the CNA like she was watching him move closer to us. She died later that night. But it was unexpected. That room creeped me out for a long time after that.
"Oh sh*t, oh sh*t, OH NOOOOOOO!!!!"
I was a hospice nurse for many years. Super gratifying job for a nurse, surprisingly. As a 'regular' nurse, you are rarely offered thanks. Hospice nursing is an island unto itself. Mostly peaceful, lots of times sad, often a blessing.
This is sad, but also creepy, and I wouldn't believe it if I hadn't seen it. Had a 20-year-old kid, gang member, who [had] primary liver cancer. Super unusual, aggressive, and terminal. He was angry at the universe. His family was there to comfort him, but he literally [spat] in their faces. Every ounce of energy he had left was angry and mean and ugly. His mom would beg him to lighten up and accept Jesus into his heart. He would swing at her and tell her to eff herself. The family remained beside, in hopes he would chill out at the end.
His last day, hours, moments, he was angry. The family called me into the room, and told me they thought he was going (he wasn't responding, Cheyne-Stokes breaths, eyes glossy, and skin cold - the end was imminent). His lovely mother, in her dearest attempt, whispered to him to go towards the light, to her Jesus. With his [final] breath he opened his eyes, looked at her and said:
'Eff your Jesus!!!'
A second or two later, he slowly turned his head to the left, and got the most horrific look on his face as if he was looking at something we couldn't see, and horrified, like in a bad movie, his face contorted, and he screamed with his last breath, eyes wide:
'Oh sh*t, oh sh*t, OH NOOOOOOO!!!!'
Then made a guttural noise and promptly fell back into the bed and [passed]. Every family member was shaking and too frightened to speak, and I left the room and took two days off. I don't care if I never find out what he saw.
“There are actual angels who keep coming into my room.”
Kevin died from a recurrence of the same type of cancer that had first shown up in him while he was still in his teens. The same cancer (seriously, fuck cancer) had also taken his father also at the age of 34 when Kev was just about the same age as his kid. He was a warm, funny, kind, no-bullshit guy who had zero capacity for flowery talk or mysticism, you know? He was a real cash-and-carry kind of dude. So, you’ll understand why his last conversation with me has comforted me for nearly two decades, now.
I went in to visit him at the hospital on what ended up being the final day of his life and, when he and I were finally alone, he leaned over to me and said:
‘Stan, there have been angels in my room, on and off, since just before sunrise.’
I ask him if he thought it was the morphine (which, normally, he would have been the first to suggest/lol), and he said:
‘No, I’m not fucking with you, buddy…I’m not talking about ‘feeling’ angels or anything….There are actual angels who keep coming into my room.’
I asked him if they were frightening and he replied:
‘No, they’re actually making me calm the fuck down a little bit.’
He passed, later that evening. You know, I have always had (and still have) doubts about there being anything after this life. And, of course, the pragmatic part of my brain recognizes that it certainly could have been the medications he was taking, or some further metastasis to his brain, right? But, if I’m being honest about what my gut tells me, or, my heart? There were angels in my friend’s room..”
He Said The Devil Was In His Room
'The devil has been in my room all night, but don't worry, God is with you.'
This man had like the worst [end] ever, too. He had a horrendous seizure and [passed] with his eyes wide open and had a horrible grimace on his face. He had also been yelling all night about the 'devil' and saying over and over:
'Get out of here! This building's gonna blow!'
“Help, they’re torturing me.”
I had a resident at end of life on comfort care. I went into say goodbye and she opened her eyes, looked right at me, and said:
‘Help, they’re torturing me.’
It was awful, she was drugged to hell and gone but obviously still feeling pain.”
May the Holy Spirit guide you in the understanding of this message.