One year ago I was rushed to hospital when I had trouble breathing. What started out as a cold picked up from school turned into what the doctors thought was bronchitis but I had a fever as well? Basically, one night I was in bed trying to get to sleep and I began coughing and I couldn't stop. I started coughing blood and then I couldn't breathe. I felt like I was drowning and the feeling was horrible. I thought I was going to die.
Mum call 911 and an ambulance came, it was off to the hospital for me, they had to hook me up to wires and put a tube up my nose to help me breathe. All night I would cough up blood and cry about what was happening to my mum. Dad was out of town on business and I was scared that I was going to die without saying goodbye.
In the morning after a rough night on a hospital bed a doctor came and told me I had a serious case of pneumonia something that I had heard if before and I didn't know that I could get it so easily.
The doctor explained that my case of pneumonia was worse because of respiratory failure and that my lungs were filling with fluid hence the sense of drowning the night before. He said that I would be put on antibiotics and observed. My lungs would have to be drained every so often.
I asked if it was fatal and the doctor just stared at me with wide, sad eyes and I wanted to cry again. To reassure me he said, "In some cases it can be fatal but we won't give up without a fight now will we?" I tried to smile in that moment and try to make it seem like I was cheered up by his statement but I couldn't stop thinking about how it was fatal and that there was a possibility I could die.
I remember how I felt when the doctor walked away. I thought everything was going in slow motion and I thought in that moment that I was actually going to die and soon. My mum was crying next to me and I started to cry. The feeling of my tears dripping down my cheeks made me feel alive because I thought it would be the last thing I could do that showed any emotion.
A few more days passed and I felt the same, I didn't get better and I didn't get worse. I remember the smell of bleach after the cleaners cleaned it was horrible and I hated it. The only food I could eat had to be blended and it tasted horrible no matter what they gave me. The doctors would check up on my regularly and I would drift off into a deep sleep every so often.
Dad finally made it to the hospital a week later. I still hadn't been told how long I had left and I was scared that he wouldn't have made it in time. I loved my dad more than my mum because mum didn't work and I would see her all of the time. It was different with dad even though he worked and went out of town he would always be there when I needed him.
I had just turned 16 when I was sent to hospital and I couldn't believe that my life was going to end so short that I wouldn't have a life to live. I was so scared.
A week later the same doctor who diagnosed me came back and said, "You will live..." The doctor said and I could hear my mum sit up in her chair next to me. "...but your lungs may fill up occasionally. You are more likely to get pneumonia again, even with the vaccine." My mum was smiling and so was my dad but I couldn't smile. Hearing that I would have to have my lungs may fill up made my heart sink because I know it would be hard work and even though I was alive, I wouldn't be able to live the life that I wanted to live.
I am now 17 and I researched online how long, on average, it takes to get over severe pneumonia and it is normally a few months but mine has been persistent. I suppose half those cases don't have to have their lungs drained every so often. It annoys me the hospital visits.
The only thing that I can do that I want to is go to school. I go to high school and I have friends who make sure that I don't get nauseous or have trouble breathing. If I do they know to call my parents and take me to the nurse and then the nurse knows to call an ambulance. It has only happened once at school but a couple of times at home.
My main worry is that I start having difficulty breathing while I am sleeping and that will be the end. I could choke and die without any fight; no one would find me until the morning. I wouldn't be able say goodbye do the things I wanted to do. That's why I want to do them now because something like that happens before I give up I want to get up and get out.
That's exactly what I am going to do.