I drowned and died for 10 minutes – heroes rescued me but I was trapped in my body & could hear everything, no one knew

AS HER eyes fluttered, Cindy Eggleton heard the sound of Elvis Presley’s Can’t Help Falling In Love playing in the background and the low hum of machines. For a split second, she felt fine – until the horror hit. She was trapped in her body, unable to move or speak… and no one realised. Cindy was trapped in her body after dying for 10 minutes Credit: Supplied Cindy, centre, pictured with her children Ruby, left, and Perry, right Credit: Supplied “I couldn’t see,” the now-54-year-old former operations manager from Brighton, East Sussex, says. “I went to rub my eyes and nothing happened. My hands wouldn’t move. I tried to wiggle my toes but, again, nothing. That’s when I realised I was locked in my own body. I wanted to scream for help but my lips barely twitched.” Sign up for the Fabulous newsletter Thank you! Cindy, then 52, had no idea she was in intensive care, fighting for her life after technically dying for 10 minutes during the Great North Swim – the UK’s largest open-water swimming event, featuring swims ranging from 250m to 10,000m at Lake Windermere, Cumbria. Her children, Perry, then 27, an expedition leader for a youth adventure company and Ruby, then 18, a swimming instructor, had persuaded her to sign up for the half mile swim with them after watching her struggle with alcohol addiction. Cindy with her husband Mark, left, daughter Ruby, and son, Perry Credit: Supplied Cindy and Mark in hospital together Credit: Supplied Cindy admits she’d been using booze to cope with stress, a habit which had quietly crept up on her over 20 years, until she was drinking one-nd-ahaf bottles of wine every night. “I’ve always loved swimming and ran baby and parent swimming classes on the weekends,” she explains. “However, the pressure of juggling that alongside my other job as an operations manager was too much. “Each night, I’d have a glass of wine to unwind but over time I had more and more. I knew things had to change when I drank so much one night that I tripped over and smashed the wine glass into my face. I needed seven stitches in my eyebrow. Most read in Fabulous “I began cutting down a bit on my own after that and reached out to my doctor. I also started doing open-water swimming together as a distraction.” But moments before the event began on June 9, 2024, Cindy began to feel uneasy. Trouble in water: What to do The Royal National Lifeboat Institution (RNLI) says if you find yourself in difficulty in water, float. Follow these steps: Fight your instinct to thrash around. Lean back, extend your arms and legs. If you need to, gently move them around to help you float. Float until you can control your breathing. Only then, call for help, swim to safety or continue floating until help arrives. If you see someone else in trouble in the water, call 999 or 112 and ask for the Coastguard. Almost 30 years earlier, she and her husband Mark, 69, had scattered the ashes of their stillborn son, Harry, in the very same lake. “I loved that lake but it brought back sad memories,” she says. “Something in my brain said, ‘This isn’t a good idea.’ I thought that was why.” Casting her doubts aside, she set off, following behind her children. Minutes later she was found floating face down in the water by a safety marshal who pulled her out. She had no pulse or heartbeat and had effectively drowned. The children’s first clue that something was wrong was when they heard the rescue helicopter overhead as they finished their swims and waited for their mum. Neither they nor Mark, who was back home, realised what had happened. Cindy says: “A marshal in a kayak spotted me and pulled me into a rescue boat. They gave me mouth-to-mouth as we sped back to the pontoon, but by the time we arrived I’d already been dead for five minutes. Once we hit the pontoon, they started five minutes of full CPR. Thank goodness they didn’t give up.” After being dead for 10 minutes, her heart finally re-started and she was airlifted to the Cumberland Infirmary in Carlisle. Doctors thought she had suffered ‘some kind of’ seizure, but had no idea why. She has never been diagnosed with epilepsy. “They had to prepare Mark for the worst,” she says. “They told him that I might only ever be able to do simple things, like poke out my tongue on command.” Meanwhile, trapped in her frozen body and with her family totally unaware she could hear them, Cindy was plagued by terrifying hallucinations of a creepy ‘ice man’ crushing her to death. Mark began to play Cindy’s favourite tracks by Elvis, Neil Diamond and David Bowie at her bedside to try to bring her back. After nights spent researching brain injury, he also told her to imagine silver and gold workmen repairing her brain, as he’d heard that vivid, positive images could help stimulate the healing process. Slowly she began to get back control of her body. “Within 10 days I could just wriggle my tongue,” she says. “Then my left leg twitched. My vision came back in patches. My speech was slurred, but it was mine. Every little thing felt massive.” After being transferred to a specialist brain rehabilitation unit, Cindy re-learned everything – even swimming. She says: “The first time I stood by myself, gripping the bars, I was shaking from head to toe. I was so proud. When my toes touched the water in the pool, I wasn’t scared. I was elated.” After seven months in hospital, she finally went home. “It was emotional,” she says. “When I heard what had actually happened in the lake, I just cried.” Today, life is very different. Cindy uses a wheelchair and her vision is damaged, but she can walk short distances with a frame and is relearning how to swim. Friends have raised money for private robotic physio sessions, where she trains on a high-tech walking machine she calls “robot school.” “So far I’ve managed 400 metres with my walker,” she says. “Earlier this year I even walked the Marathon Mile in Brighton, which is for people who can’t run an actual marathon. I also went in the sea for the first time this month. Since that day in June 2024, Cindy has only had the occasional drop of wine. She jokes: ‘It was the most extreme detox ever.’ She credits her recovery to her friends and family who visited her every day. “They kept me going and now I’ve been given a second chance. I joke that I’m Cindy 2.0 now. I might be a new version of myself but at least I’m still here and I’m still fighting.” And when she’s asked what it’s like to die, she says: “I don’t remember anything during or just before it. There was no light – I just woke up and realised I was still alive. “I wouldn’t say I was frightened of dying before, but I’m even less so now. When your time is up it’s up, isn’t it? I just feel lucky to have a second chance.” To donate, visit gofundme.com and search ‘26.2 Miles for Cindy. Comment now