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The enigma of what lies beyond the final breath is perhaps the only universal preoccupation of the human race. Across every culture and era, we have constructed elaborate mythologies and theological frameworks to explain the transition from life to death: the scales of justice, the pearly gates, or the cycle of rebirth. Yet, despite centuries of philosophical debate, the true nature of the afterlife remains shielded behind an impenetrable veil—unless, like Brian Miller, you happen to step through it and return to tell the tale.
Brian Miller, a 41-year-old truck driver from Ohio, was a man accustomed to the tangible realities of the physical world. His life was defined by the weight of a steering wheel and the rhythmic hum of the interstate. However, in 2014, his reality shifted from the concrete to the celestial in a matter of seconds. While at home performing the mundane task of struggling with a stubborn container lid, he was suddenly leveled by a crushing, white-hot pressure in his chest. Recognizing the symptoms of a cardiovascular catastrophe, he managed to dial 911. “I’m a truck driver and I think I’m having a heart attack,” he told the dispatcher, his voice strained by the onset of a “widowmaker” event.
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