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What happens when we die? It’s one of humanity’s most enduring questions. The closest we get to a definitive answer is from those who’ve had near-death experiences (NDE), in which individuals almost die and later recall events that occurred while life-saving resuscitation, emergency care or surgery was performed.
“During an NDE, individuals often report a variety of sensations, including a sense of peace, detachment from the body, and encounters with deceased relatives or spiritual beings,” says John C. Hagan III from the University of Missouri.
“Many also describe moving through a tunnel towards a bright light, experiencing a life review that highlights important moments and choices, and a feeling of unconditional love.”
Hagan, a medical doctor and author of a book about the subject, says that even for those who don’t recall details, NDEs can still significantly influence their lives afterwards. “Long-term effects usually involve significant transformations in personal values and beliefs,” he explains.
“Changes may also manifest in enhanced empathy, compassion and a desire to contribute positively to the world. NDEs can lead to lasting psychological, emotional and spiritual shifts that shape individuals’ perspectives on life and death.”
Here, three people share their near-death experiences and how it changed them.
Emily Counter collapsed at the gym and nearly died, before she was diagnosed with a congenital heart condition.
Emily Counter, 27
“I grew up spending a lot of time on my family’s avocado farm. I would go for runs with my dad, determined to push myself to keep up, but every time, after just a few minutes, I’d have to stop, gasping for air. I thought it was due to being unfit or maybe just a bit anxious.
At 19, I explored many different styles of workouts and classes, including heavy weight-training and cardio, to try to get fitter. It never crossed my mind that there could be a medical reason behind my struggles. I just kept pushing harder, determined to overcome what I thought was a lack of fitness or nerves.
On October 24, 2018, at 20 years of age, I had worked my normal 9-5 day, and at 5.30 pm I attended my local gym. My workout was all cardio on the rowing machine. In between rowing sets, I fell off the machine and had a seizure.
A gym-goer ran over and started doing CPR compressions, but I didn’t respond; they couldn’t detect a heartbeat for five minutes. By then the owner of the gym had retrieved the defibrillator and placed it on me. After one shock, my heart was beating again.
The days after surgery were some of the toughest I’ve ever faced. But the scars – both physical and emotional – became part of my journey.
Emily CounterI was then transported to hospital by paramedics and put into an induced coma for three days. When I woke up, I did not know what had happened and had no memory of the past few weeks. My mum, dad and family were by my side and had to explain it to me.
In the weeks following, it was discovered that I had an underlying heart condition, Bland-White-Garland-Syndrome, which I had had since birth but never knew. A major symptom is sudden cardiac death, and babies with the condition typically don’t make it past infancy. I was told that I needed to have open-heart surgery urgently.
The days after surgery were some of the toughest I’ve ever faced. But the scars – both physical and emotional – became part of my journey. They reminded me of what I had survived, and also became symbols of resilience.
I had a deeper appreciation for the simple things: breathing without pain, laughing with friends, even just feeling the sun on my face. My experience changed me in ways I never expected. This journey has taught me that life is unpredictable, but also incredibly beautiful. Every heartbeat is a gift, and I intend to make the most of every single one.”
Greg Page, formerly the Yellow Wiggle, collapsed on stage from a heart attack, and was “gone” for 13 minutes.
Greg Page, 53
“It was early 2020, and it was a day like any other day. I knew I had a show that night with The Wiggles as the Yellow Wiggle. Everything was normal. Then, doing the show, it felt like a normal show.
But for the last song we did, called Get Ready to Wiggle, the choreography was quite physically demanding. I was feeling exhausted with a bit of a heavy chest, but there was no pain. It was just like, ‘Gosh, it’s hard to breathe in here.’
We got through the number, and I said goodbye to the audience, walked off to the side of the stage to grab a drink of water that was on the ground and, as I did, I collapsed. In those few seconds, there was a slight bit of panic – it was like I was drowning – and then I was gone. It was black after that.
Greg Page (second from left) in his days as the Yellow Wiggle.Credit: Dallas Kilponen
Four key hands-on first responders performed CPR and used the AED [automated external defibrillator] that was onsite. The first shock didn’t work, but the second did. I was out for 13 minutes before they got me back.
I likely wouldn’t be alive now if it wasn’t for the AED. Moments before the successful shock was delivered, electrical activity was disappearing from my heart, and you needed that to be there for the shock from the AED to be able to get the heart restarted.
My first solid memory in the hospital was the nurse coming in and saying to me, ‘Oh gosh, you’re a lucky man.’ I said, ‘Why is that?’ He said, ‘Well, because only one in 10 people survive what you’ve been through.’
I was told later that I had had a heart attack, then went into cardiac arrest. Not all heart attacks lead to cardiac arrest, and not all cardiac arrests are caused by heart attacks. But in my case, it was.
After Page, pictured in Sydney’s Westmead Hospital, recovered, he established a charity to improve public access to defibrillators.
A few months after my cardiac arrest took place, I began my charity, Heart of the Nation. Its goal was to raise awareness about cardiac arrest and how anyone can do CPR and use an AED. We also needed more AEDs in the community, and people needed to be able to find them, so we started a nationwide AED register.
Personally, one thing I’ve learnt is that you can’t control everything. You’ve got to live your life. You never know which day will be your last, so I now take on opportunities that I wouldn’t have taken before. A recent example was the musical Annie, for which a musical theatre performance role came up. I thought, ‘I’ve never done that before, I’ve gotta challenge myself to do it.’ ”
Trudy Vains, 50
“It was 1996, I was 21 and pregnant with my second child. I went into spontaneous labour at 30 weeks gestation. It was not like my previous labour; I was bleeding, and it started to get worse once I arrived at the birthing suite. After tests and examination, I was told I had a placental abruption. Four hours later, I birthed my baby – and then everything went black.
Trudy Vains nearly lost her life during complications from childbirth, which resulted in the loss of her baby.
The next thing I remember was floating above my physical body; it was serene. There was no bright light, just a feeling of complete wholeness. I felt light and at peace, complete and whole, filled with love and not a care in the world.
I watched from above while the staff, one woman and two men, performed CPR. I only saw the top of their heads, no faces, and their scrubs were light green. A woman was on the bed, starting CPR, one of the men was at the head of the bed ready to start breaths, and the other man had the defibrillator. I saw the defib pads go on, and then I was back in my body.
The first thing I said was, ‘Where is my baby?’ No one would tell me, but in my heart I knew he had not survived. The next day, I asked again, and they told me he had died. I had absolutely no feeling or emotion – nothing. I was completely numb and so tired. I knew I was very unwell and I slept a lot while having numerous blood transfusions.
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When I was able to go home, everything came crashing down; it was one of the most difficult times of my life. For a very long time, I wondered why. Why did I have to go through that gut-wrenching experience? That never leaves your mind.
Life took me through twists and turns, and many medical issues, before I ended up as a yoga teacher specialising in pregnancy yoga as well as childbirth education. I then transitioned to birth support.
I have helped couples birth their babies, even in the very room that my child died. There were difficult births, easy births, and then occasionally a baby who was born forever sleeping.
I do believe life is a path of lessons, and we help others along the way. I can say to people, ‘I understand what you have been through’ and it means much more coming from someone who has experienced such gut-wrenching loss.
My near-death experience has also allowed me not to fear dying when my time comes. The feeling I had was of pure love, and that is nothing to be afraid of.”
For miscarriage, stillbirth and newborn death support, call 1300 308 307.
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