
Four times, Salima Witt has come close to dying. It would be nearly impossible to come away from each medical emergency and illness unchanged, but those changes have led to a deeper resilience and belief in herself.
From septic shock to unconsciousness, to kidney cancer and encephalomeningitis, she learned to listen a bit differently, to tune out the noise outside and find a way to listen to a stillness within. She shares her experiences and the lessons learned in her memoir, “STATIC: Learn to Listen Through the Noise — It Could Save Your Life,” which has also been selected for the San Diego Public Library’s annual Local Author Showcase, featuring published works by local authors.
“…The primary reason I set out to write the book was to help others. In doing so, I never really paused to consider how it might be helping me. After surviving so many challenges, it’s easy to place limits on what you believe you’re capable of,” she said. “However, writing the book ultimately revealed something powerful to me: limitations exist mostly in the mind. Yes, of course, there are physical limitations, but the mind is powerful. Through the process, I learned that we are truly capable of achieving almost anything we set our minds to, no matter the obstacles. It taught me that our potential is far greater than we often realize, and that pushing past perceived limitations can lead to amazing, unexpected growth and accomplishments we never dreamed of.”
Witt, 52, lives in North County with her husband, Brendan (a former professional hockey play with the National Hockey League), and they have two adult daughters. She took some time to talk about living through each of her near-death experiences and the lessons she’s learned about survival, fighting for herself, and tuning out the static in life. (This interview has been edited for length and clarity. )
Q: Can you briefly walk us through these four experiences?
A: The book goes into much more detail, but in 2002, my daughter Safiya was born. During the delivery, doctors inadvertently left a grapefruit-sized piece of placenta inside me, which went undetected for over six weeks. As a result, I developed E. coli septic shock and was given only a 10% chance of survival. I fell into a coma, and while many people in similar situations lose their limbs, I developed avascular necrosis in both arms and legs, along with other serious complications. This ultimately led to the prognosis that I would be confined to a wheelchair for life. In 2017, I experienced another traumatic event when I fell off my horse in San Diego, landing on my neck. The fall nearly paralyzed me and threw me into a 20-minute period of unconsciousness. In 2018, I was diagnosed with stage 3b chromophobe kidney cancer, and I fought that battle with everything I had. Then, in 2021, I developed encephalomeningitis, which caused me to lose consciousness, my sight, and my hearing for two months. During this time, I lost the ability to swallow, walk, talk, or care for myself. This was, without question, the most difficult and humbling battle of my life.
Q: How would you describe yourself, the kind of person you were, before these illnesses?
A: A lot of who I am remains the same at my core. I’ve always had a deep love for life, and that has not changed. I used to juggle multiple tasks at once with ease, but that is no longer the case. After my brain injury, I’ve had to become more mindful of my limits. Stimuli, once something I could handle effortlessly, is no longer my friend. I now have to carefully choose what I can tolerate and focus on what truly matters. For example, I used to enjoy attending concerts, but now that is not possible. While some may find this sad, for me, it has brought a new kind of peace. When one experience is no longer available, it makes space for something else—something that I’ve come to appreciate even more. Instead of concerts, I now find joy in visiting California’s vast hiking trails and nature parks, where I can listen to the songs of birds and observe wildlife. That has become my concert, and it brings me a sense of fulfillment and connection with nature that I never fully appreciated before.
Adapting to change has been a crucial part of my journey. Physically, I can no longer do what I once did. I used to compete professionally in horse jumping, but now I find great joy in going for trail rides with my horses. It’s a different kind of joy, one that is perhaps even more profound because I’m deeply grateful for every moment I get to experience it. Life has taught me that true happiness doesn’t come from doing everything I used to do — it comes from embracing the present moment and finding new ways to enjoy life, no matter how it changes.
Q: Did you do anything, like journaling, during any of the years that you were going through these health challenges? How would you describe the Salima from those pages?
A: Yes, I did. When any of us go through life-changing traumas, we all have a tendency to either catastrophize or romanticize the event in our minds as we move on. It is important to journal so as to accurately the events that took place. Sometimes struggling and barely surviving in some pages, and in others strength. The overarching message I see in my journaling is resilience.
Q: And, how would you describe yourself today? Do you feel like you’re on the other side of this? Are there elements of your personality that these experiences heightened?
A: I’m so grateful, patient, and calm. When in a coma, the unconsciousness is a lack of ability to communicate in this world; we are in a different state. People who have experienced comas, or have been close to someone who has, sometimes describe the experience in ways that suggest they were somewhere between life and death, between consciousness and unconsciousness, or between reality and a dream-like state. For me, there was an element of this. I have had numerous experiences with near death experiences, and these have changed me forever.
Before these events, I had more anxiety. It was difficult for me to let go, wanting to control outcomes. Now, that is completely gone, 100%. I realize, wholeheartedly, that I am not in control and practice letting go daily.
Q: Early on, you shared your story with The Washington Post in 2003, and your husband said that he didn’t know if he could ever trust a medical doctor again; did you have similar feelings? Are there other things that you’ve noticed are different now than they were before all of this started happening?
A: Definitely. When we were younger, we had complete faith in the allopathic (conventional) medical system. At the time, I was 25 and my husband was 23, and we believed that doctors in white coats had all the answers. We assumed that if something went wrong, they would be able to fix it. Over the years, however, our perspective has evolved significantly.
I have immense respect for many doctors, and I owe my life to the medical interventions that have saved me on more than one occasion; however, I’ve also experienced moments where conventional treatment nearly killed me. This has led me to adopt a more holistic and discerning approach to healthcare.
Now, I advocate for listening to one’s own body and intuition when making healthcare decisions. Whether the path involves allopathic medicine, acupuncture, naturopathy, chiropractic care, or another modality, what matters most is choosing what feels right for you. For example, when I was diagnosed with kidney cancer, I took the time to carefully consider all options. After consulting with doctors, I ultimately made the decision to undergo surgery to remove my kidney, as the tumor was large and posed a significant risk. However, there have been other instances where I have chosen to pursue natural treatments entirely. The point is that there is no one-size-fits-all answer in healthcare. What I have learned is the right choice depends on the situation, and most importantly, on what feels best for you at the time. Listening to both professional advice and your own guidance and intuition is key to making informed decisions that align with your personal well-being.
Q: Have you found new hobbies, activities, ions that you’re able to do today? Maybe things that surprised you, that you wouldn’t have guessed you’d be into?
A: Yes, I absolutely adore nature. I have since I can , it is where I felt the most connected. When I was stuck in a wheelchair and not able to do much, I would ask to sit outside as our property overlooks the Cleveland National Forest. I started learning more and more of the bird calls and eventually became an avid bird watcher.
Q: How did you first recognize this static that you talk about in your book? What was it? What did it sound like, or look like?
A: The first time was during a near-death experience. When you lose the ability to be in this world, there is a strong ethereal sense right in front of you, not muddied up from life’s noise, the static, that maybe difficult to hear. We are inundated with static, especially in today’s world. The static is muffling your intuition, or what some call God or a higher self. When I came back out of darkness, I was able to hone this skill-a connection to intuition, God, higher self. To metaphorically tuning into my own station. Everyone has their own station, the ability to tap into this to guide us. When have you not listened to the voice, the intuition, telling you ‘don’t do this’ or ‘do this’ and you went against it? It never turns out good, does it? Through my experiences I have been able to sharpen this skill and share it with others. I truly believe we are able to access this space without having to go through the near-death experiences I have lived through.
Q: What was your process for finding the voice inside of yourself, that you could hear through this static?
A: It’s not a voice, per se, but rather a feeling; a profound and distinguished connection that I’ve come to recognize as something much deeper than ordinary awareness. This connection is not just emotional; it transcends the usual ways we communicate or understand one another. It’s a feeling of being held-not physically, but spiritually. It’s a deep sense of love, reassurance, and understanding, as though you are not alone, even in your most challenging moments. When I experience this feeling, it’s as if I am being gently guided by God, my intuition, or my higher self-forces greater than myself, but intimately connected to who I am. Like a mother’s love, it’s both protective and nurturing.
This connection is not just spiritual, it is a form of divine guidance-an expression of God, intuition, or higher self that reaches us on a soul level. This is the connection I now trust-because it has carried me through life’s most difficult moments, offering peace, clarity, and the unwavering reassurance that I am on the right path, regardless of how uncertain it may seem.
Q: Has there been anything rewarding about this long process of multiple recoveries, in general? And, has there been anything rewarding about writing and publishing your book?
A: Through my near-death experiences, I’ve come to realize that one of the greatest gifts they’ve given me is the ability to truly listen-to God, to my inner voice, and to the subtle guidance that often gets drowned out by the noise of everyday life. In those moments of profound stillness, I discovered that listening is not just about hearing words or sounds, but about tuning in to a deeper sense of purpose and connection.
These experiences taught me to quiet the external chaos and focus on what lies beyond it. I’ve learned that letting go of the need for control creates space for divine guidance, whether you believe in God, the universe, or simply the natural flow of life. Trusting that there is a greater plan unfolding has allowed me to listen more intently to the wisdom that surrounds me.
Letting go, for me, became a way of surrendering-not just to the present moment, but to the process of life itself. It’s about releasing my grip on past regrets or future anxieties and trusting that everything is happening as it should. In doing so, I’ve found clarity and peace that have been transformative.
Q: What has this work to share your experiences taught you about yourself?
A: My multiple near-death experiences have taught me profound lessons about resilience and strength. I’ve discovered that I am far more resilient than I ever imagined. This insight is not just personal, it’s a universal message for all of us. In the face of adversity, we have the potential to rise above our limitations and become more than we ever envisioned or thought possible.
Q: What is the best advice you’ve ever received?
A: Letting go. Letting go involves releasing control over situations and outcomes that are beyond our influence. It’s about embracing the present moment, trusting the process of life, and surrendering to something greater than ourselves, whether that’s a belief in God or simply having faith. Rather than clinging to past regrets or anxieties about the future, letting go is an act of acceptance and trust.
Q: What is one thing people would be surprised to find out about you?
A: I am bilingual. My family hails from the Berber people of North Africa, and my grandmother carried the tradition of cultural facial tattoos.
Q: Please describe your ideal San Diego weekend.
A: San Diego is truly one-of-a-kind in the United States. In a single day, you can experience the beach, the mountains, and the desert-each offering its own unique beauty. For me, the ideal way to enjoy any of these environments is outdoors, surrounded by friends and loved ones.
What I love about North County…
My family has relocated frequently over the years due to my husband’s 15-year career in the National Hockey League. While we’ve enjoyed our time in various states, nothing compares to the beauty and lifestyle of San Diego. North County, in particular, holds a special place in my heart. I’m fortunate to live near the Cleveland National Forest, with ample acreage that offers a peaceful, natural setting. On any given day, I’m greeted by a variety of wildlife, from mountain lions and bobcats to turkeys and coyotes. It’s a constant reminder of how blessed I am to call this place home-truly one of the most beautiful locations on Earth.