Il giorno in cui sono quasi morto
I’m going to tell you a story of the day I almost died.
Era estate. Ero tornata dall'università durante le vacanze estive, quindi ho vissuto con i miei genitori per due mesi. A vent'anni, dovevo lavorare durante l'estate per avere abbastanza soldi per pagare la retta dell'università.
But, along with my work, I had to study for the exams I had left. Usually, I’m not the kind of person who will close herself into my four own walls and study—having no time for my social life—and I didn’t do it this time either. So, I organized my summer into working, studying, and hanging out with my friends. I don’t have to tell you that it was a busy summer for me.
Sono riuscita a vivere quella vita stressante e insonne per circa un mese. Poi l'asma ha iniziato a farsi sentire. Ho iniziato a sentirla di tanto in tanto, ma con l'aiuto del mio inalatore sono riuscita a tenere la situazione sotto controllo.
Fino a quel giorno.
It was a day as any other. I started my everyday routine—I got up after 2-3 hours of sleep, I studied for a few hours, I went swimming and for a cup of coffee with my friends, and then I went to work. I worked at the local bar as a bartender. It was crowded all the time.
It was summer and where I come from, it’s tourist season during the summer. So, there are a lot of tourists wandering around and drinking—looking for a good time with no cares in the world.
Everything went well at work that day. Although I was tired as hell and my legs were cramping, I didn’t notice it. I was happy and satisfied and kind of numb to the stress and pain I was feeling. I needed to take a break—to pause my life for a second—but I didn’t.
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After my shift was over at 3 a.m., I got a call from my friend which I wish I didn’t take. I hadn’t seen her in a few days and after I leave for college, I won’t see her in months. So, I couldn’t say ‘no’ to her.
We got together at the beach bar to have a drink (only one drink), and then I planned to go home and have those 2 hours of sleep and continue my daily routine tomorrow. I thought it was a day like every other—but it wasn’t.
As I was standing at the bar talking to my friend, I started feeling it—my asthma. It felt like I had a ton of stones pressed to my chest. I couldn’t breathe. I didn’t get scared because I knew the feeling.
The only thing I had to do is to go out, breathe in some fresh air, and take my inhaler. I did go out and I did everything properly. I sat on the dock surrounded by the sea and the beautiful and calm starry night. I sat there and I struggled for every breath. I thought it’s going to pass—but it was only getting worse.
I don’t know how long I was sitting there. It felt like hours, but it was minutes. At some point of my struggle to breathe, I looked up at the sky and down to the sea again.
The sea was so calm—it was shiny, peaceful—and the sky was so beautiful with millions and thousands of stars sparkling. I’m not sure that I’ve ever seen a clear sky like that night.
Pensai tra me e me mentre lottavo per respirare: “Dear God if I have to die, you chose the perfect night for me to die.”
I thought of this because it was 3 a.m. and in that small place where I live, there is no E.R. You have to drive 15 miles to the closest one, and I didn’t have anybody to drive me.
Sa improvvisamente la mia amica è apparsa all'improvviso. Sapeva della mia asma, ma sapeva anche che mi era già capitato numerose volte e che l'avevo sempre tenuta sotto controllo.
She looked at me and she knew I’m not fine—not this time. I didn’t know this, but she told me I was pale and that my eyes were starting to crawl inside my eye sockets.
From this point forward, I don’t remember much. I only know I was sitting in the back of someone’s car, losing consciousness, and fading away. There is only one thing I know which I haven’t told anyone.
That ride to the E.R. was so long, but due to the situation I was in, it was peaceful, too. Every time my friend—and her friend who drove me—panicked out of fear they are going to lose me, I saw something.
Every time I’ve lost myself I’ve seen him—I’ve seen my guardian angel. My guardian angel is my cousin who died in a car accident. I always knew he was looking after me, but this time I actually saw him.
It’s weird, the whole situation, because although I knew I was dying, I was happy. I was at peace because somehow, I knew everything will be ok. I knew if I died he would look after me, once again.
I remember his eyes and his smile. When he was alive, he always cracked jokes—he was a funny guy and people genuinely enjoyed his company. Now, that I’ve seen him once again, I realized he hasn’t changed a bit.
Me l'ha detto in modo divertente: “Hey cous, I know you’re glad to see me, but you’re going back!” Ringrazio Dio per questa mia esperienza e ringrazio Dio per avermi fatto rivedere il mio angelo custode. E questa è la mia storia.
Quello fu il momento in cui finalmente feci un respiro profondo.
È stato il momento in cui ho tolto quelle tonnellate di pietre dal mio petto.
È stato il momento in cui sono arrivato in tempo al pronto soccorso.
È stato il giorno in cui ho rischiato di morire.
