The Attack
The day was a good day. Everything was going great for once. As the choir from Connecticut sang I thought that this would be the first day I would be leaving school happy. I was anxious for the last period bell to ring. The auditorium was filled with harmonies, as the choir from Connecticut continued to sing. No one cared that the A.C. system didn’t work in the school or that it was so hot in there that we could feel the heat radiating off of each other. The audience was on their feet, swaying back and forth, clapping their hands along with the choir. Then the end of fifth period bell rang. A few of the students began to scurry out of the room because they didn’t want to be late for sixth period. My friends and I decided that we would leave too, because our instructor hated for us to be tardy. We gathered all our things in a rush and began to move toward the door. When we reached the band hallway our fifth period band instructor told us that it was rude to walk out on a group while they were performing and he told us to stay. Mr. Smith also told us that he would give us a late pass with information why all of us were late to Spanish class and so we stayed. We listened to the choir finish their set and helped Mr. Smith put away the equipment and we took off. Little did I know that my day would end with me staring the grim reaper in the face and that my tragedy would give me insight to what my future holds.
At
first we all were strolling slowly because, after all, we had a late pass. We had a discussion while advancing down the
hallway about the way our hard-nosed Spanish instructor would react to us
having a pass or no pass at all and we decided to speed up our pace. The others started to run; I knew that I couldn’t
run so I tried to keep up by power walking.
They started to leave me and I started thinking to myself what would
happen if I showed up after they did, after all they were the ones with the
pass. I started running. All I could
hear was the hollow sound of my shoes making contact with the tile on the floor
and eventually I caught up with them. The whole time all I could think about
was how my heart was beating a mile a minute.
I told myself to concentrate on my breathing. I started to pant and I began to tell myself to take deep breaths
and I would be okay.
We finally reached the
classroom and the whole class was just sitting there quietly as we entered the
room. The silence was an eerie silence
as if they were waiting on us to show up because they knew that we in for a
harsh punishment for being late. I
still hadn’t caught my breath and I was still panting. My friend Jonathon
leaned over and asked me if I was okay. I nodded yes because I didn’t want to make
a scene. It wasn’t thirty seconds from the time he asked if I was okay that I
started having a full-blown asthma attack.
One of my classmates sitting in her desk stood up and asked if she could
go and get the nurse. I remember it like yesterday when Senorita told Rhonda, “
No, she’s faking because she doesn’t want to hear my mouth,” as she commanded
the others to stay seated or they would be penalized. It soon registered that she really thought I was faking. I wanted to say something but when I opened
my mouth only the gasping noise came out.
Instead of staying in the classroom and listen to her say that I was
faking, I decided to go across the hall. The only thing was that my legs had
started to go numb. They were like jelly.
Every step I took was a heavy and painful step; it felt as though I had
fifty pound weights tied to each ankle. I stopped at the door of the restroom
and just slid on the floor against the wall.
My breathing got even quicker and I was starting to get a splitting
headache. My chest felt as if someone kept hitting me over and over again with
a sledge - hammer the size of Paul Bunyan’s. Just when I thought that I was
finally going to blackout Kristen came running out of the classroom and I could
hear Senorita’s angry yells behind her. Kristen said she didn’t care that she
wasn’t going to leave me outside helpless.
Kristen stood me up and helped me walk around the corner. Every step we took was a heavy agonizing
step. Every time I tried to stop and rest along the lockers Kristin would tell
me that I couldn’t just stop or I was just going to pass out. We continued
around the corner of the hall and ran into our principal, Mr. Brown. The
principal took me to the nurse’s office and the nurse handled me from there.
The
next few days were awkward. My fellow
classmates were outraged that Senorita allowed me to lie there on the ground
and wouldn’t allow anyone to go and get help.
Students would walk up to me and say that they could handle her for
me. Some of them would even suggest
things like hiding her oxygen tank; she had a respiratory dysfunction too. Other teachers would say things like, “
She’s too old, too sick, and too set in her ways and she needs to retire.” When the others would say those things I
would experience a temporary state of happiness. I hated going to her class
every other day. Every time I went near
her room I started to get a lump in my throat. My breathing would start to
speed up again like some sort of natural radar that she was around. It always felt like someone had a hand over
my mouth and I was going to suffocate.
Eventually
the semester was over. It was finally
time for graduation. I would never have
to look at that woman’s saggy face again.
When someone mentions her name I begin to get angry all over again. I
remember the feeling in my chest, the headache, and the numbness. I remember the point during the attack that
I thought that I should just close my eyes and it would be over. I wouldn’t have to suffer anymore. I didn’t
because of one person with a heart of gold and because I realized that I wasn’t
done with my task on Earth.
Some
people believe in fate and destiny. Those are usually the people who believe
that they were put on Earth to complete certain tasks. Even though I will never forget that day and
hold a considerable amount of animosity toward Senorita, I did gain insight
from the experience. I learned not to put myself in jeopardy to please others
and I figured out what my purpose was on Earth. I decided a few days after the incident that I wanted to become a
Registered Nurse and to specialize in respiratory care. I know how it feels to feel as though the
next breath could be the last and like a five hundred pound gorilla is jumping
on my chest. I realized that through my
personal experience I could bring more comfort to my patients that they are
going to be okay.