One young woman, who was a nursing student at the time of her experience, expresses an understandable fear.
This is sort of funny, I know, but in nursing school they had tried to drill it into us that we ought to donate our bodies to science.
Well, all through this, as I watched them trying to start my breathing again, I kept thinking, “I don’t want them to use that body as a cadaver.”
I have heard two other persons express exactly this same concern when they found themselves out of their bodies.
Interestingly enough, both of them were also in the medical profession—one a physician, the other a nurse.
In another case, this concern took the form of regret.
A man’s heart stopped beating following a fall in which his body was badly mangled, and he recalls,
At one time—now, I know I was lying on the bed there—but I could actually see the bed and the doctor working on me.
I couldn’t understand it, but I looked at my own body lying there on the bed.
And I felt real bad when I looked at my body and saw how badly it was messed up.
Several persons have told me of having feelings of unfamiliarity toward their bodies, as in this rather striking passage.
Boy, I sure didn’t realize that I looked like that!
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