Caterina Pacialeo | Photographic Artist
It was the Queen’s birthday long weekend 2014, and the best and the worst and a turning point of my life. I was 45-years young. Lots was going on that year—everything felt so intense, so manic. 10 years ago, this year.
I had contracted severe pneumonia and was going down quickly. Mum called me the next day to ask if I was OK—she had a very bad dream that I was ill and saw a white spot on my lung.
Mothers are so intuitive. I was in extreme denial that I was sick, I thought I might have a bad flu. I never experienced anything like it before.
My sister and mother eventually came to get me two days later, and I ended up in the ICU for a good week. It was very traumatic as I was told I had 24-hrs to live, as I wasn’t responding to treatment. They prepared me for the worst. The doctors didn’t know what had caused the pneumonia, so they gave me the “spectrum of medication”, in addition to Morphine and Endone and a machine that assisted my breathing. I was surrendering to what ‘was’ and came to accept it’s my time. I wasn’t scared, I was at peace with everything—I didn’t care about anything, nothing really mattered. I wasn’t worried about whether I was a successful artist, if I made enough money, if I owned my own home—all the expectations of myself I previously held. They weren’t important anymore.
I was reflecting on what was, and a few regrets came to the surface, being I wish I had more deeply connected with my family, and the other relationships that were important to me.
On the third day in ICU, fear overcame me and I realised I didn’t want to die. I made a promise to my higher self that I would heal. I began to meditate and scanned my whole body in white light from head to toe. I also prayed and made a promise to myself that if I pulled through, I was going to connect more deeply with my family, be honest with myself, and open my heart more in all my connections with people, because prior to my illness I had kept myself disconnected due to fear of being hurt.
Throughout my time in ICU, there was a clock on the wall to my left, which meant I could tell what time of the day it was as otherwise the days blurred into nights.
Every morning at approximately 3:00 AM I would gaze out the small narrow windows in ICU towards the adjacent building, where I sighted this very tall man of Amazonian-size with wings, who looked as tall as a 7-8 ft giant. His room was glowing golden-yellow, and I observed him getting dressed and fixing his tie in front of a mirror. I saw this each and every day at the same time. The veil was thin.
After nearly a week, I began getting better and knew that I was going to be OK and was also very aware I felt and saw the world differently and knew life wasn’t going to be the same. The journey to recovery was a slow transition as the doctor said it would take a year to fully recover. My memory wasn’t sharp and I was told it would eventually come back. I began seeing a psychologist weekly, found a new GP, and joined the gym with a friend who was my personal trainer. I meditated daily and continued with yoga. I saw an energy reader as I needed to process feelings and visions that I couldn’t articulate.
Having gone through this experience, I believe in an Afterlife. I also believe angels exist and that the man I saw from a distance in the golden glowing room was an angel preparing to escort me to the Other side. However, it wasn’t my time, and I knew this wasn’t the way I was going to leave this world. I have work yet to do here.
I think sometimes the Universe throws us profound life-changing situations in order to awaken us—in my case to force me to slow down, reassess where I was, thus altering my life path ahead.
—Caterina Pacialeo (2024)
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