Kudos to my Mom for keeping my Sense Memory Paper from 6th grade; it reads like this:
The first thing I wanted to say was that I am glad this experience happened to me. The day I went into the hospital was the same day I had a heart arrhythmia, which means your heart goes faster then slower then fast again, though it felt like a heart attack. I mostly remember how scared I was thinking I could die at any possible time, and I was only 10. I was at Silver Wing Elementary school and I told my teacher I had to go to the nurses office, I walked as fast as my feet would take me. When I got there the nurse called my Mom and Dad. My Mom was at the school in 20 minutes. She had thought to call an ambulance but she knew I would get scared, and she was right. When we got to the hospital my Dad was already there. At the hospital they put me in I.C.U, they started sticking needles in me and asking me all sorts of questions; like how I felt, where was the most pain coming from and what time did it start, I was so confused. All I wanted was my parents and my sister.
I was at the hospital for 10 days because they were suppose to do a catheterization which is a small surgery where they look at your heart from the inside. I never got that done because the Dr. was putting people ahead of me, so they let me go home. I was glad, but they told me I had to have Open Heart Surgery and to think of a certain date that I wanted it on. I thought about it and I had decided on September 9th. I don't know why I decided on that date it just didn't sound that close or that far away.
The times after that were terrifying, at first my chances were very rare, but there was still hope. The day I went into the hospital my Mom took a picture of me and my sister possibly for the last time. When I got there I got my room and just sat there with a complete blank asking myself can I do this? I knew the Doctors do the surgery but I was the one who had to know if I could cope with it for the rest of my life, and right there and then I knew I could. As the day went on my chances were raised and my parents were happy, before my chances were 85 living to 15 dying they were 65 to 45.
As the day kept getting closer to the time I knew I could do this and I was going to survive. Finally it was time, the Doctors came into the room with the bed and I began to cry, even though I was higher then a kite I knew what was going on because I could feel it in my surroundings. As they put me on the bed I could see my families faces, they looked horrible. As they rolled me down the hallway to the surgery my sister and I held hands tightly as my parents tried to keep my Grandma from dropping to the ground. From then on I don't remember much, but my Mom says it was and 8 hour surgery and it was the longest day of their lives. When I came out I still don't remember anything but my Mom says I said, " I'm coming home mom, I'm coming home."
For the next few days I was fine, I was suppose to be in the hospital for 1 month, I was out in 10 days. I think the worst things was when they took out the IV's. I had 12 of them. They only thing that hurt was when they took them out. Well I was glad to be home again and thanks to all the support I had I got through it faster.
The last thing I wanted to say was that I would never trade my experience with anything, because I think it was a good experience that God knew I could handle, and he was right, I did.
