I was drowning in air. For hours, I counted each tedious breath. I forced air into my wheezing lungs, exhaled, and fought for motivation to breathe again. My body was numb as I tried to stay conscious. On every laborious breath was a deep hacking cough that scrapped across my burning lungs and intolerable pain stabbed into my side. I tried to hold it in but my diaphragm lurched in protest. Despising every shallow breath, I longed for relief and release from the pain. None came. None could.
My body rejected the asthma medicine. Every attempt was punished by yet another unrelenting onslaught of coughs. Between coughing, I desperately gasped for air. It wouldn't come. It fled from me.
My mind was hazy. I felt the cool tile against my face as I limply leaned against the wall. My thoughts were even more clouded than my mind. "One"...I inhaled...coughed...lurched, and cherished the millisecond of calm. "Two"...another laborious breath. "Three"...breathe...again. Pain. The night dragged on as I fought to last until morning.
In the back of my mind, I cried in frustration. My body was unbearable weak and fragile. I knew and dreaded the fact that it would not heal in time. My delicate dream of winning the State Track Meet was dashed in one night. It was shattered beyond repair. I shook, unable to cry, as I counted "One...Two...Three..."
Frightened, I felt my consciousness fading. The words of a song echoed in my mind. I cried out in prayer. "Oh Father. Lord I’m going to love you. Lord I'm going to trust you. Yes, I'm going to trust you, Lord." The words were bittersweet. My body screamed in torturous pain, my mind panicked and cried, yet my heart was content at peace. I gathered all strength to whisper the last chorus. “Lord, I’m going to thank you. Yes, I’m going to thank you, Lord. And I am going to praise you. I am going to praise your name with all the strength in me.”
I was drowning in air
I was floating in peace.