It’s 12:51am and I’m still awake scrolling through my phone, smiling at some pictures, yet shedding a tear for some not-so-beautiful memories that make me continue to utter the word, “I am grateful, God” multiple times. Why? Because I am no longer an emergency.
It was in the hall where I was writing an assessment when it struck. I couldn’t move my legs, couldn’t breathe well, but I smiled because at the time, I had thought the end had come, but God said, Nah, not yet.
Wearing double nose masks because that was the only way I could survive outside the hospital.
While I was in pain, I remember smiling through all the injections piercing my body because deep down, it felt like they were just trying on an already gone individual, but all those worked just right when my parents walked through the hospital door, worried, and teary.
Oh, my dad, he struggled to hide the tears, but he couldn’t. And my mum? She held on to the doctor’s shirt screaming, “doctor! Please, don’t watch her die! Doctor, please, do something!” just like they scream in movies when the doctor is confused or about to declare someone dead. My eyes were shut, my breath unstable, yet I heard the screams of my mum, and the prayers of both my mum and dad. It wasn’t a good sight.
For a while, I couldn’t stand on my own, I was more of a breeze-blown human avoiding the breeze at any point, because at that point, I could actually be washed away by any strong wind. Gradually, I got a bit better, and left home for a while just so my parents could stop worrying.
Even indoors, this was how I could survive, else, I would choke from the smell of cooking
For about two years after, I was one wrong inhale away from the emergency ward and I could barely be left alone by myself, though I fought against that. My parents tried to keep me at home just so they could keep watch over me, protect me, and help me with the basic things I needed to do, but I rejected their offer, not because I was proud, but because at that time, I was a liability to them and I hated to see their hearts continue to break.
I avoided stepping out because perceiving anything different from air was a disaster, but I met really good people who helped me through that rough period. They were angels in human form making sure I did not miss out on many things, but I actually did because my life was practically on hold for that time, but today, it’s a different story.
I am no longer an emergency. I do not visit the hospital as much as I did, and I do not have to put people on speed dial just because I had crisis and couldn’t help myself. It’s a time I hate to think about, but these pictures remind me of how much I have been through, yet I smile it over like it means nothing. Not because it doesn’t mean anything, but because I am grateful for the past, but I am not stuck there.
I have moved from there, laughing harder now, and making memories that are not as bitter. What a time.
Images are mine.