you’re fine then you’re not

today’s assignment: tell me about a time you were fine until you weren’t.

It was a normal afternoon. I was fifteen years old, and my priorities consisted of band gossip and boys, probably not in that order. It was Monday, so I didn’t have band. Yeah, even band dorks got an afternoon off every now and again.

I had just become good friends with a new girl. Well, she wasn’t really new but a new friend to me. We’d been in classes together since we were thirteen, but she was pretty so I assumed she was a meanie. I was wrong. A friend, who I later realized was a meanie, invited this girl over to my house against my wishes a few Fridays before since we didn’t have a game to march in, and my house was where we all hung out. Yes, we were cool in our own minds. Well, it turned out that this girl and I had a lot in common and got along well. I like to say now that she spent the night that night and never left.
Well, back to the point. I had become new friends with this girl, K. And since we were fifteen, we did what we did best: talk on the phone. And trust me, she and I could talk for hours. But our conversation ended sooner than we’d hoped because she had to babysit. And I felt sick. No, not because she had to get off the phone–we weren’t that close or those kind of girlfriends. I just didn’t feel right. It was my stomach, I thought. I was home alone, so I tried to remedy the situation on my own with some help from an internet conversation with another friend. Take a nap with the heating pad was his suggestion. That lasted all of five seconds. No really, I laid down and was almost instantly in twice as much pain. Something is really wrong I thought. But what? I clutched my teddy bear {who I still sleep with, thank you very much} and crawled down the stairs. I stared at the clock. Mom would be home from work any minute. So I waited. Only two minutes ticked passed before I grabbed the phone.
“When are you getting home?” I moaned.
“In just a minute, JoAnn! I’m just down the street at Kroger.”
“Well you need to come home now, please.”
I hung up the phone and assumed the fetal position. But it didn’t help. I’d never experienced pain like that before. All I could do, I thought, was scream it out, so I did. What felt like hours later, I heard the garage door open and though I felt relieved, I didn’t feel any better.
“I’m just going to take you to the hospital,” my mom said when she walked through the door.
Once at the hospital, we didn’t wait in the waiting room long before they called my name, and I was interrogated about what I’d consumed and done that day. I could barely answer them and soon I was in a hospital bed with pain meds flowing through my veins.
“I’m actually feeling a little better,” I told my Uncle who reminded me that I was hooked up to an IV that made me feel that way.
It wasn’t long before my entire family snuck into my hospital room. The nurses warned against our violation of visiting hours, but really, who was going to mess with that many Italians?
After a series of tests, my doctor was betting he knew what was wrong, but first I had to have an ultrasound {is it weird that I’ve had two ultrasounds so far in my life and I’ve never been pregnant?}. But the ultrasound was inconclusive, and my doctor was back to the drawing bored, but he was still wagering he knew what was wrong: he just had to prove it.
Before walking out of the ultrasound room, he paused by my bedside. “Now tell me,” he pushed down so hard on my abdomen, “does this hurt?”
“No.”
“How about this?” he released his pressure on my abdomen abruptly, and I nearly leapt off the table. “Yup. Just what I thought. It’s your appendix. We’ll operate tonight.”
It was a Monday night. My entire family was gathered in my hospital room. And I was wheeled off to surgery.
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About JoElizabeth

I am a writer who loves to explore all different types of relationships. I am most happy when surrounded by my loved ones and furry children. I've never met a stranger, and I talk way too much. My favorite things to do are eat {preferably at a restaurant} with good friends, write, watch DVDs of TV series {especially FRIENDS}, drink lots of coffee and learn.
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One Response to you’re fine then you’re not

  1. All of Us says:

    I remember that day!

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