Ten Days to Suffer

According to Buddha, "Pain is inevitable, but suffering is optional." It is possible to experience pain without having to suffer from it, but in order for that to happen, one has to let nature to take its course. One has to have the strength to let go of the things that worry them, and just be still for a moment to allow things to fall in place. In my case, I wasn't strong enough, but I did learn from those experiences, and took that lesson to heart. It was in early January of 2016 that I suffered from Mononucleosis, during that time, I also pretended that I was okay just so that I would be released early from the hospital, even when I felt terribly sick, but in the end, I had learned to accept things for the way they were.

To begin with, it all started with a sharp pain in my head, not at all like a headache, but almost as if I was getting shocked repeatedly in the same spot. I was sitting in one of my classes when that sharp pain started to reoccur every few minutes. Now, I hated missing school, because it was everything to me. At this time, though, I had a sinking feeling that something was very wrong. With permission, I left my classroom, clutching my head and walking slowly to the nurses' office, where my mother was called to come and take me home. On the way home, the sharp pain had spread throughout the rest of my body. I was breathing so heavily because of the pain, that when I had reached my room, I collapsed on the floor and fell asleep. When I woke up, I could hear my mom saying that she is going to take me to the hospital. As I tried to get up, both my arms and legs felt so weak that they kept collapsing under my weight. My mother helped me walk to the car, and we drove to the nearest clinic. When we got there, we were told that there didn't seem to be anything wrong with me, so we drove somewhere else. There we were told almost the same thing, and also that it was probably just the flu, but my mom, as a nurse, was sure that it wasn't, so we went straight back home. The next day, we went to the pediatrics hospital, where I was immediately admitted. My first doctor had to draw blood from my vertebrae in order to find out what was wrong with me. I cried when the needle prodded my spine and I was squirming so much that it became hard for her to get the right spot. Then suddenly, a painful shock went through one of my legs and I yelped. I told the doctor and she had told me that meant she had hit the right spot. She then proceeded to draw blood. The results came back positive for mononucleosis, which is an infection usually caused by the Epstein-Barr virus, and I was moved to my own private room. The pain had me crying by day and sweating profusely by night. The nurses were very kind and concerned, which put my heart at ease during my stay, but it didn't change the fact that I wanted to get out of there as soon as possible. Like I said before, school meant a lot to me, and it was exam week during that time and I would shudder at the thought of my grades going down.

So, with that in mind, I pretended that I was okay so that I would hopefully be released early. But things didn't go quite as planned. My doctor had allowed me to go, but before I even reached home that night, I had already thrown up three times. So, my mother had to take me back. I was sent to the same room as soon as possible, and the doctor had told me that not only did I have mono, I also had pneumonia and pleural effusion. Pneumonia is the inflammation of the lungs, which is accompanied by fluid build-up in lungs, as well; and on the other hand, pleural effusion is the build-up of fluid in the pleural space right outside of the lungs. My limbs were swollen with water, so I felt heavy every time I tried to walk. My chest felt tight, and it was difficult for me to breathe. I threw up every time I ate or drank something, because the food felt like slime slithering down my throat. I was starving myself during my time at the hospital, because throwing up was painful. I was always shaking and crying, because of the pain, but that all went away when I was given morphine. When the nurse administered it, my chest suddenly felt heavy as if someone had just dumped a bunch of huge stones upon me, then that feeling gradually went away and I started to feel as if I was floating. Morphine had the street name, "God's drug," and at that moment, I knew why. My mind was at ease and I calmed down shortly after. I was able to compose myself, and realize that I was being well taken care of.

As a result, I stopped trying to rush things and allowed my body to heal in its own time. While in the hospital, I hardly had anything to do. When I wasn't staring at the ceiling, I was sleeping. When I wasn't sleeping, I was staring at the ceiling. During those staring contests with the ceiling, I thought about a lot of things. I meditated on the fact that I was a very impatient person, and that I should focus on changing that about myself, because it was a major character flaw for me. My impatience had cost me my health, and if it weren't for those around me, I would be in a lot of danger. I had prioritized my grades at school over my own health, and that's where the problem started. I decided that just because school or work may be a part of my life, it's not everything. Watching my mom help me bathe when I could hardly move; feeling my sister's hands rub my back to soothe the pain; hearing the sound of my dogs' cries when I finally came home; and finally, being able to eat my grandmother's soft, fluffy bread without throwing up, all of that was everything to me.

That being said, from how I suffered from a viral infection to my attempt to be released early from the hospital, and even to the time I came to accept things as they are, that all changed who I was as a person. My impatience made things harder for me when it didn't have to be that way. The fact that I was in pain was hardly my fault, but as for the suffering, I myself was the cause of that. That experience opened my eyes, and allowed me to see things that I've never seen in myself before and I was able to change. So, in short, for the rest of my life, in the back of my mind, I will always remember the ten days that I suffered.