She called her husband, who came and dealt with the police. The damage to the back bumper was not serious so she was able to drive home and put herself to bed. Three hours later she awoke feeling nauseous and confused. That evening her temperature spiked and her husband took her to the ER at Swedish. One of the intake nurses asked if she had a made out a will. "Why?" she asked, beginning to panic. "Is everything ok?" "This," said the nurse, "may be your last night." Hearing those words, Esquibel had an instantaneous whole life review. "I thought of all the time I'd wasted worrying, she said, and of all the things I hadn't done in my life."
Needless to say, she didn't die that night. Her tests and x-rays all came back negative, and with no medical reason to keep her there, the docs put a brace on her neck, wished her well, and sent her home. Later, as she was drifting off to sleep, she had a vision of an aunt who had passed away several years before. "It was as if we were looking at each other in a waking state," Esquibel remembered. "It was a tangible presence."
On the second night, she had a face-to-face encounter with a grandfather who'd been dead for six years. "He gave me a warm welcoming smile," she said, "and blew me a kiss." She was at once delighted to see him, and terrified at what this vision might portend. "I was afraid I was going to die in my sleep," she said. "I kept thinking, 'I can't go now. I have a daughter to raise."On the third night she received another visitation, this time from her maternal grandparents. "I asked them, 'Am I going to die?' They pointed to a bed and said, 'No, you're ok. Go to sleep and rest. We're here to protect you.'"
