I tossed, turned, and tried in every way to go to sleep. But I simply could not. My stomach hurt badly, and it was a sharp piercing pain, like a spear being shoved through my body. I ignored it. It was just another mild acidity problem, as I’d been having those since I was younger. I went back to bed again, because I thought this one would be over in the morning, like the other ones. But little did I know that this pain would shape my life for the many months to come.

That morning, I woke up feeling fine. I was correct! I knew it. I got out of bed and was about to grab my phone when my dad said, “come on, we’re taking you to the emergency room.” He knew something was wrong with me. And even though I would not know until the end of the day, my dad had saved me from worse consequences. 

I didn’t even have time to question why before I was in the Pennsylvania E.R. bed. The doctors took me for a pre - scan, as if something was wrong with me. But there wasn’t! I knew it! I wasn’t feeling any pain at all. I spent most of my day sitting in one of the rooms, watching patients come and go. During that time, I felt as if I was non - existent. I felt alone, scared, and puzzled, all at the same time.

It was in the early afternoon when my father came in with the nurse. My father slumped. He hadn’t looked like that since his favorite team lost the super bowl. I didn’t know what happened, until the nurse started to talk. The nurse opened his mouth and said: “hey buddy, you’re going to need surgery.” I was shocked. Everything stopped in front of me. I was powerless to do anything besides gently nod my head. 

Everything was a blur at that point. I was saying goodbye to my brothers, parents, and everyone who treated me. I walked out of the hospital, got in the car and reached the surgery center with my parents. The time was now 7:00 at night. Sitting in one of the surgery center rooms, my father came up to me and finally told me what was wrong. My appendix was majorly inflamed, and with a slow reaction to it, I could have had serious problems. 

Suddenly, someone knocked on the door. It was the anesthesiologist, who was going to put me to sleep. I saw the drugs flow into my body. 5 minutes later, I was experiencing the effects of this powerful medicine. My ears began to ring. My eyes slowly started to close. My head dropped back. My arms became numb. I was truly unconscious, and the surgeons took over.

The immediate effects were painful. Walking was a struggle, and going to the bathroom was a pain as well. Exercising hurt a lot, so I tried to stay away from it. These wore off after a few weeks when I was back home in Mississippi. This was when life became normal again. I was happy that nothing had severely changed and that I could still enjoy most of the things I loved to do. I now realized how lucky I was, and realized that I may not have been able to enjoy my life if something went wrong. 

I learned from this experience that life is taken for granted. During that experience, many events could have gone wrong. For example, my dad not identifying the problem, the possible anesthesia overdose, or even a botched surgery itself. So, I learned that life can so easily be taken away or messed up, and this is why it should be lived to the fullest.