Finally we made it to our hotel; the only air
conditioned place in town at the time, and
everything became a little clearer in my head as
my body began to cool down.
It seemed as though I was taking the fourth and
final base to home when I was seventeen years
old. I had been at college for no more than a
couple of months and it was a holiday weekend. I
decided to stay on campus for reasons I really
can’t remember, and was one of the only
remaining girls in my dorm.
I had gotten home from a breakfast buffet with
another girl, who had left a few hours later for
break. Horrible stomach cramping and nausea hit
me on that Sunday afternoon, and I feared
perhaps I had received food poisoning from the
I forced myself to throw up but nothing changed
the horrible pain in my abdomen. I called home
and my parents coached me on some remedies.
Two days went by and I was much worse, the pain
so bad I could hardly move from my bed. I was
able to get a hold of one of the only girls
still there and she promptly drove me to the ER
After waiting for what felt like an eternity of
agony, I filled out the endless paperwork and
sat for several minutes as I was questioned in
an office over my symptoms. Finally I was laid
on a stretcher and a doctor came in who had no
patience for me (no pun intended).
After vigorously poking around my stomach and
reprimanding me for making myself throw up, he
sent me back to my dorm.
The third night I remember laying on my mattress
which I had dragged from my top bunk onto the
floor. I was sweating and unable to drink and I
remember just knowing that if I didn’t do
something I wouldn’t make it through the night.
One of our dorm leaders came and checked on me
and I begged her to drive me to the ER. We
pulled in and up to the door once again and I
remember nearly blacking out every few steps
that I took.
We sat in the waiting room for about an hour,
within which I made my way to the bathroom to
vomit five times or so. Finally they took me to
the back and began to run tests on me. I
remember I was freezing and felt as though I had
reached deaths door as they gave me water enemas
and checked my entire system over.
After an hour of this a doctor finally came into
my room explaining that they would need to
remove my appendix. I made the doctor promise
that they would give me enough sedative so I
wouldn’t wake up during surgery. He laughed and
They removed my appendix as my mother then
arrived to be there with me afterwards. I was
later informed that my appendix was horribly
infected with gang green and had already
ruptured long before the surgery.
The doctor told my mother I was lucky to make it
alive, and deeply apologized for sending me home
the day before hand. My mother held my hand as I
emerged from surgery, alive.
When I think of these memories of my life, I
whisper a prayer that it will all be for
something…that my breath will accomplish
something wonderful on this present home front
I’m thankful to be alive…excited for the
future…and no, I don’t expect any more close
brushes with death…but who knows…only God can
predict that throw, and it’s His hand I trust
the most with my next breath.