It seems like people go through life without thinking twice about what if they weren’t able to do something like walking, talking, or losing memory.  I was one of those people, and for the first time in my life, I had a taste of what if could be like to have lose everything in my brain. 

We were playing a basketball game.  We were winning by a landslide, 25-5 and were not letting up.  Our coach told us the game plan, and it was hard to focus up because I started to get a headache.  It was aching, and I could tell it wasn’t going to stop anytime soon.  I thought nothing of it and went out without telling anybody.  The third quarter began, and we played as if we were playing for the NBA Championship.  We did not let up and just slammed down on the gas pedal.  I heard my coach’s voice in my head yelling empty the tank.  The forth quarter wasn’t any better for them or for me in that case.  My head felt like it was being stabbed time after time.  I wasn’t sure if I could finish the game, but I knew I had to because athletes don’t show pain. 

At the end of the game, we won because we played smart basketball.  We went in the locker room, and all my teammates were all energetic and hollering.  Not me.  I sat down and felt my head throbbing hoping it would go away.  I lay down after awhile, and my coach asked me, “What’s up?”

I told him, “I have a headache.”  He jokingly told me, “You’re not allowed to be sick.  The tournament is in two days” I changed and headed towards the bus.  Walking to the bus, my legs felt as if they had cement blocks on them; they were so weak.

My team knew something was wrong, so they called our coach back.  They gave me a bucket because they thought I was going to be sick. I sat there on the bus to head back home, and it was getting worse for me.  The feeling I had was like my head was being crushed in a car crusher.  I have never felt something like this before, and next thing I knew it was all black.  Nothing.

I awoke barely hearing my coach yelling my name to wake up, and all my teammates looked at me all shocked.  My head was still in pain, and everyone panicked freaking me out.  I heard my coach tell someone to call my mom.  I was so dizzy.  I couldn’t think straight, and I was nervous.  My friend Jake said, “We are almost to your house.”

We arrived to my house and parked out front, and they tried to get me up.  I was doing fine, and then I fell on someone.  Once again everything went away and went black.  I don’t know what they did to get me off the bus, but when I woke up, I was sitting in my mom’s car.  She terrifyingly told me, “We are on the way to the ER.” The pain in my head went to a molecular level, and the rest of my body started to restrict.  My mother asked me questions like, “Where are you?  What’s your name?  Who am I?”  These entire questions I could not answer; not because I couldn’t talk but because I could not remember.  To this point I was petrified, and I started to breathe fast over panicking. 

Arriving at the ER, I could not walk, so I used a wheelchair, as I sat there with my hands and legs restricted.  I must’ve looked a mess, and my extensive breathing didn’t help.  I was put in a bed and hooked up to an oxygen machine because they said my oxygen level dropped down to sixty-eight.  That’s supposedly bad, but I don’t have any medical knowledge.  I’m being asked more questions.  “What’s your name?  Where did you just come from?  What is your school called?  I freaked out even more because I still could not remember anything.  I thought I was losing all memory, but then again I don’t know what I know and what I don’t.  Once my oxygen level was normal, I was able to move my body.  I rested there trying to think of what happened to me.  I went to get an x-ray for my head in this big machine.  It looked like a big donut to me.  During the x-ray I started to get my memory again.  I thanked God because I didn’t think I would. 

I went back to the hospital bed, and all my friends were waiting for me.  We sat there waiting for the results back.  Waiting for the results was like trying to wait and watch paint dry.  Everything was fine, and they don’t know what was wrong.  The whole time my mom was there with me.  She is the light of my life, and it helped with her there with me. That day I learned I need to take life more seriously.  Life is short and can be taken away just like that.