Womack 1 Cassie Womack Mr.

Neuburger Eng Comp 101-130 1 March 2012 Descriptive Essay The Frightening Asthma Attack One hot, flaming fall morning, I awoke from sleeping early in the morning to a thrusting pain in my chest. At the time, I was a mere eight years old. I was still rather young, but I had the pain tolerance level of a war veteran. Knowing this is what made my mother start to worry when I told her I was in so much pain. I woke having a terrible time trying to breathe and get oxygen to my lungs. These events led my mother to quickly make an appointment with my pediatrician, Dr. McNeal. I only have one sibling, my younger sister. She is four years younger than I, so at this time she was only four years old. When we were children, we were insanely inseparable. When she heard I was in pain and would have to go to the doctors office, she of course wanted to tag along. My mother couldnt imagine trying to take two young children to the doctor, so she asked my grandmother to go along as well. My lonely grandmother jumped at this opportunity because she rarely got to leave the house. As we were all desperately trying to get ready at the house, my pain was like slowly climbing up a steep, rigid cliff. Looking back on this vivid memory, I now would say my mother probably should have taken me straight to the emergency room and saved the doctors trip for another time. While my mother and sister were rushing around to get ready, I was sitting downstairs patiently waiting to leave. Shortly, my grandmother promisingly pulled in to our

Womack 2 driveway, just what I had been waiting for. During my younger years, my grandmother was my role model and I knew, deep down, I was her favorite. When she arrived, she grabbed me and hugged me, squeezing the life out of me as usual. Sitting with her, I could almost stop thinking about the fact I could barely breathe. While we sat and waited on my mother and sister, she reassured me that everything was going to be just fine. Then, just like a habit she couldnt kick, she reached into her purse and pulled out her secret stash of butterscotch candies. These candies were the best and she knew they were my absolute favorite. I rapidly ripped off the cellophane wrapping to uncover my prize, the sweetest candy in the whole wide world. After devouring my prized possession, my mother and sister slowly slipped down the stairs proclaiming they were ready at last. Finally, we were all ready to leave for our visit. As we walked to the beloved blue Buick, I felt like I was drowning, desperately gasping for air. But as the tough girl I had always been, no one heard any complaints from me. As we promptly piled into the car, I again had to wait for my sister to be buckled into her car seat. This job for my mother was an eventful effort in itself. In this moment, I accepted the fact that we may never actually leave our home. Finally, my mother got my misbehaving sister strapped in. I thought to myself, Yes, we get to leave now, after all of that waiting. However, my mother then realized she had forgetfully left her keys inside the house. Thankfully, my grandmother turned to the backseat to comfort me as my mother went inside to retrieve her keys. She again reassured me that everything would be just fine, and we would be at the doctors office soon. The car ride from Rogersville to Springfield was the longest, most miserable ride of my short life. When we arrived at the office, I immediately smelled the horrid scents of being with a doctor. The smells of a doctors office have always been terrible, but a pediatricians is the

Womack 3 absolute worst. Everything to my left and my right smelled like diapers and sick small children. My mother checked us in at the correct window, and we were seated in the waiting area, surrounded by contagious children. Like the flip of a light switch, my sister instantaneously correlated other whiney children to her own crying. My mother was completely oblivious to this terrifying behavior until my grandmother pointed out her obscene behavior. As my mother was taking Jenny, my sister, to the bathroom to straighten out her behavior, my grandmother scooted next to me. She put her hand on my leg, for one last time of reassurance. With this comforting contact, I immediately felt my breath being taken from my lungs. I was grasping for air, and it didnt take my grandmother anytime to notice my struggle. She gasped, yelling, Dear Jesus, someone please help this child! The nurses then sprinted into the waiting room like a herd of elephants, coming to my rescue. I was rushed into the back examining room where they finally got my breathing back to normal. My mother met us in the back room, completely hysterical. At the sight of my frightened face, Jenny straightened up at once. Dr. McNeal was quickly brought into the room where he instructed my mother to take me over to the hospital. The four of us rushed into the car, and my mother drove like a maniac across the street to Cox South. The next hour of my life is a blacked out blur. The point of remembrance comes to me with bright lights lying on a hospital bed. The light was blinding me and the bed felt like a wooden board. I felt a sharp stick in my arm and could hear mumbled voices in the background. The doctors at the hospital diagnosed me with asthma and wanted to keep me for a few more nights for observation. When I found out this information, I was extremely upset I would have to miss days from first grade.

Womack 4 I ended up being admitted to the hospital and stayed for five drawn out days. While I was there I had a plethora of visitors, ranging from Hamburglar to my 1st grade teacher, Mrs. Immekus. While I was in the hospital I missed out on trick or treating, so Hamburglar came to my room on Halloween to play Candy Land. As an intelligent child, I knew I could easily beat this character, who I knew wasnt real. I started to win the game and Hamburglar brought a tornado upon our game board, ruining the game. My visit was a long five days, but the entire time there was one visitor who never left my side, my grandmother.