7 minutes to eternity

I have heard numerous times, that after you officially drown, you live an additional 7 minutes before your brain shuts down. I can only imagine what goes on during those seven precious minutes. It is a long time, actually. Go ahead and sit there, 7 minutes, immobile, just you and your brain without interruptions.

What brings me to this is a chain of thoughts? This morning I had a dream that a large black shark bit off my left foot. It bleed a lot, but I was not panicky. Well, that is until some local told me the black shark was also poisonous, which, so far as my understanding of sharks, is not possible. Nonetheless, I became concerned at that point despite not feeling like I was poisoned. Since then I have recovered and please refer to me as "stumpy" from now on. Stupid dream.

I have a love-hate relationship with the sea. I love it. I love vast open water, sailing ships, naval vessels and eating fish. On the other side of the spectrum, it also killed my biological father and even swept me out to sea once. Not to mention all the times its beat the crap out of me while body surfing or boogie boarding. So my conclusion is that it hates me, hence the love-hate relationship.

Still, moving the chain of thought from shark bite, to seafaring, to drowned father, to final thoughts, I have to consider the following; what are those final thoughts. Does the proverbial "life flash before your eyes" transpire? Again, seven minutes is a long time, perhaps too long for a "flash", but then, you probably aren't going to live and tell about it either. Bearing in mind that your body has already given up the fight, now it's just your brain mentally tying up loose ends. You're probably sinking, or peacefully resting on the bed of a body of water. Technically, you already look dead.

I would like to think that perhaps my father's last seven minutes were, in part, reflected upon me and hoping for my posterity. In reality, it matters very little and could, on my part, seem selfish. But from my own perspective, that of a husband and father, my worries would be of great magnitude, and then remorse for a million little things that may be trivial or not. I'd be disappointed at the fact that I never conquered the world, metaphorical or literally, with emphasis on the latter. And then the eternal perspective, the great question answered - what happens after death?

It is interesting to note that a former employer of mine has a spouse who was swept out to sea. She was missing for about an hour before she washed up a mile down the beach just as an off-duty EMT was running along, found her, and promptly started CPR. The EMT sent someone to get help, who, by coincidence, flagged down an ambulance returning from a hospital. Everything was in play, and soon she was life-flighted to a hospital, and surprisingly, had a full recovery. Accordingly she holds some miraculous record for being revived after being drowned for an hour. I still talk to her every now-and-then.

Of course, your brain probably isn't as lucid as expected. It's shutting down too. All your motor-skills are gone already. Just you and your thoughts. 7 seven minutes to dwell upon whatever it is you held dear in your finite lifetime. Looking back, will there be a sense of dread - time wasted - as you lose everything. Hmm, on second thought, I'd like to not drown, please. I'll take my chances with the big, black, poison shark, who, unfortunately, has a nasty habit of ankle biting.