Ch. 4 Shock

Choking.  Gasping.  Darkness.  My world turns black and I cannot breathe.  I try to speak but nothing comes out.  “NURSE!!”  I hear someone scream.  Pressure.  So much pressure!  My head feels like it’s about to explode.    Suddenly, I hear the sound of tennis shoes moving quickly.  “Get the IV out.”  “EpiPen!”  Light.  Things are starting to come back into focus.  Breathe in.  Breathe out.  Breathe in.  Breathe out.  Jesus.  I see him staring at me above the door, hanging on a cross with his arms spread out.  Breath in.  Breathe out.  Just keep breathing, I tell myself.  I pray. 

“My head!  There is so much pressure!” I hear myself tell one of the nurses.  “We have to get her blood pressure down,” one of the nurses says.  I feel the burn of the medicine flow through my veins.  Finally, release.  A man in a white coat sits in the corner, watching.  Why is he just sitting there looking at me?  Why isn’t he doing anything?  The nurses continue to monitor me.  “Her face isn’t as red anymore.  How is your head sweetie?” One of the nurses asks.    “It is getting better,” I somehow get out.  “You went into Anaphylactic Shock.”

Time passes and my breathing seems to be normalizing.  The anxiety and panic slowly leave me.  My grandma explains that as soon as the Remicade went through the IV and into my veins my face turned bright red.  The Nurse Call button was within reach, but I could not press it with my fumbling fingers.  She ran out and in turn saved my life.  Thankfulness and relief fill me.  My nurse puts a cold compress on my head.  I look at her.  “I just need to cry,” I say.  Placing the rag over my eyes to hide my insecurity, I let them release.  The fear of not breathing was gone.  I was safe.  I could let go.  I didn’t have to keep it together anymore.

The silent tears continue on the ride home.  Still trying to maintain a strong front, I couldn’t let my grandma see me cry.  I didn’t want her to worry, to be burdened.  I had to carry it all.  A couple hours later, I finally return to the safety of my home.  My mother and father rush toward me and wrap me up in their hugs.  “I’m ok.  Don’t worry.  I’m fine.  It’s not a big deal.”  I tell them.  My eyes betray me as they release another flow of tears.  Safe in my father’s arms, I cry.  Those would not be my only tears.  The trauma would continue to haunt me. 

Choking.  Gasping.  Darkness.  My world turns black and I cannot breathe.  I try to speak but nothing comes out.  “NURSE!!”  I hear someone scream.  Pressure.  So much pressure!  My head feels like it’s about to explode.  Jesus! 

My eyes open to darkness as tears stream down my cheeks.  Realizing I’m in the safety of my bed, my breathing begins to calm.  I curl into the fetal position and cry.  I pray to God to please make these nightmares stop.  Take them away, I beg!  Alone and afraid, I cry myself to sleep once again.