almost gone

this is not how i expected to spend my summer, sitting in a hospital bed, alone. my throat hurts reminding me that i have a feeding tube in my nose; just the thought of it makes me cringe. how did i end up here? how did i almost die a week ago? i remember lying on the stretcher in the ambulance, crying as the paramedics told me gently that i might go into cardiac arrest. i felt the slow pitter-patter of my heart in my chest and i sobbed. "i can't be dying," i said, "please don't let me die." the paramedics reassured me that they knew what to do if that happened and they wouldn't let me die. i told one of the paramedics how earlier i sat on my bed and begged god to not let me go to hell if i died. the paramedic questioned my faith, and then reassured me that once i was saved i would always be saved, and there was no way i could go to hell. that gave me a moment of peace before i lost consciousness. i thought i had died, but when i came to they were rushing me into the ER. outside the air was warm and humid, but inside the hospital the air was cold and frigid. the treatments i received in the ER were painful, and a bit traumatic- potassium IV, huge tube down my nose and charcoal, a catheter, etc. some of those things made me wish i were dead. i'd never felt so miserable before. by 4am i was transferred to Levine Childrens Hospital 8th floor, which is the progressive care unit (one step down from the ICU) that alone tells me how sick i have become thanks to this damn eating disorder. now i've been here over a week, and i'm preparing to go to treatment. i'm scared out of my mind, but i know now that there is no greater fear than the one that comes when you're about to die. this experience could've broken me down even more; allowed me to just sit back and become an invalid girl in a hospital bed. instead, it has built me up; given me motivation to fight, courage, understanding, and most importantly, a desire to LIVE.