Falling in and out of consciousness the room spun in circles. The gurneys wheels turned right as it headed down, yet another, ghostly white hallway. Pushing through a set of blue metal doors the gurney stopped. By this point my body had made it to the stage I called “torture”. This stage consisted of the feeling of severe pain, helplessness, and shock. My body became lifeless on the outside, yet on the inside it screamed in anguish. The severity of pain I was encountering could not be described in simple terms. Someone may have described it as “a truck to the abdomen” or something as simple as “A punch in the stomach”. These are the scenarios the doctors threw at me while I laid there, motionless, wishing life would end and take all the agony away.

“What is your pain level from ONE through TEN? TEN is the worst and ONE is the best,” asked one of the doctors. My pain was always at a SEVEN. For the last three years my pain had quickly grown to a solid SEVEN. I dealt with that SEVEN on a daily basis. But now it was a TEN.

“TEN” my lips screamed, but no sound was heard, I was weak and exhausted.

I could feel the color draining from my face as nurses shuffled around me. White lights enveloped the entirety of the room. As a needle was inserted into the top of my right hand I could feel a cooling sensation flow through my veins. What was happening? Why was the pain becoming worse by the minute? My world was spinning; there was no way I could win in the situation I was faced with.

“Breathe… take deep breaths… in through your nose, out through your mouth.” These were the words of the nurse who was grasping my hand and stroking my curled strawberry-blonde hair.

A warm tear ran down my pail cheek as I began to understand the severity of the situation I was in. Once the pain medicine began to take effect I was able to control my thoughts that had recently been racing. How had I gotten to the hospital? I knew it was a hospital by the colors of the walls and the hustle of the many women wearing scrubs. I remembered those blue doors. Those BLUE METAL DOORS, the force that was used to propel the gurney through them, it was then that I realized where exactly I was. I was in the intensive care unit. Not to long ago a friend of mine had been wheeled through those BLUE METAL DOORS as I sat helplessly in the waiting room and watched. He did not exit through those doors.

That thought sent a chill down my spine. This could be the same situation, I could be close to death and I’m not even aware of it. Have I done everything right? Closing my eyes I prayed, I prayed with all of my strength and all of my will to live, it was the first and hopefully last time I prayed that God save my life. At that moment I felt a squeeze at my hand. Opening my eyes and searching through the wires and cords that engulfed my body I saw my mom. Her eyes were bloodshot and water filled. Her hand was shaking as she held mine tight. She began to speak. The shakiness in her voice showed her fear. She spoke to me softly, soft enough that I could catch only bits and pieces over the noise of the machines surrounding my head. Yet, through all the noise I caught the end…. “I LOVE YOU!” Using all the strength I had left, I lifted my hand to my mouth and blew her a kiss. The nurse approached my head and I could hear her asking my mom to step outside.

“Now Kristi, all you have to do is count backwards from 100,” a familiar voice behind me said.

Looking up I saw the concerned face of my specialist. I knew I was in good hands. Closing my eyes I began to count “100, 99, 98…”