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28 June 2008 @ 02:46 pm
A well overdue sickness...  
Someone once described me as the "sickest person they had ever met."
Sick not meaning "awesome" or "cool".
Or in the sense of "gross" or "disgusting"
But literally. Sick. As in frequently ill.

On occasion I do tend to...have shaking fits...
Or mind-blowing headaches for no reason whatsoever...
I'm completely normal, aren't I?

Last night at youth group, all was well.Though as music began to play, I felt as if someone was piercing my stomach repetitively with a dagger making it difficult for me to breathe.Terrified, I made my way to the bathroom to splash water on my face, and try to pull myself together.
The feeling remained, and I found that within moments I was in a pool of sweat. Shaking involuntarily, I panicked. Waves of nausea overtook my thoughts, as I convulsed, now sitting on the floor of a stall, my head in my hands. Numerous tragic scenarios filled what was left of my conscientiousness. The biggest fear was passing out, without anyone knowing I was down here. So taking a deep breath, I dragged my weak form up the stairs and into the sanctuary. Everyone seemed lost in prayer, but I didn't care in the least. Grabbing the nearest Youth Leader by the hand, I wordlessly dragged her to the bathroom. Her brows knitted in confusion, she silently followed until she caught glimpse of my face. Flushed, droplets of perspiration scattered across my forehead, and practically clutching the wall to keep upright I wasn't the prettiest sight.
Through the ringing in my ears, I could tell that she didn't know what to do more than I did as she dialed for my mother with trembling fingers and whispered words of comfort. At one point she began saying a prayer over me. I couldn't help but get angry. What was THAT going to do when I was gasping for breath?
After 20 minutes of this, thankfully my breathing steadied, and the room ceased to spin. I stood up, and tried to primp my appearance. (As if I could play off whatever happened and go off to Mass as usual.) Tucking wispy bang behind my ear, the cramps began once more. Each almost having me double over in pain. Finally, Becca spoke, asking me what I ate today. I rambled off a number of normal foods. Pizza, soda, chicken, a bagel, a cupcake....
Some people are allergic to nuts, others milk or something but oh no. Not me. I am allergic to food dye. Me having found this out the hard way, when I ate a box of Fruit Loops but that story is for another time. And earlier that day, a fresh batch of cupcakes teased me. Inside they happened to bit little bits of colored sprinkles. The intensely sweet vanilla aroma wiped all memory of my new-found allergy as I sank my teeth into its crisp top. Polishing off two, I was satisfied. Little did I know that would cause such a traumatic event.
Scolding myself, my arms folded over my stomach, I laid down as if that would calm it. Mother came bursting in, ready to personally drive me to the ER, or at least home. Shaking my head violently, I promised I would be fine as I stumbled back upstairs. Grabbing a blanket from the nursery, I coiled myself up in a pew in the back and listened to the service until I grew extremely drowsy.
I'm not sure if I passed out, or simply drifted off to sleep, but I woke up an hour later to see a pair of hazel eyes looking over me. My face reddened a second time that evening, not of being under the weather but embarrassment. Nodding, I murmered that I was alright and staggered back downstairs to return the blanket, accompanied by that certain fellow. Smiling softly, he pulled me into an embrace and whispered something the lines of "I hope you feel better"'s and what not. Smiling softly, I let him hold me a moment before I recognized the footsteps of my mother to see where I had gotten off to. With an awkward exchange of goodbyes I scurried to the car and fell asleep.