Breathless

     "Cough! Cough! Cough! I can't breathe!" I wheezed. For the first time in my sixteen years of life I felt like I was going to die.
     "What's happening to me?" I wondered.
     "Nikki, come on, I'll help you into the car. We're bringing you to the hospital," my mother said to me. She sounded much calmer than I felt, although she might have just kept her fear inside her for my sake.
     I silently obeyed. I still felt terrible even though the coughing had stopped. I kept wheezing the whole car ride there.

At the hospital, after being tested for what seemed like forever, the doctor came back with the results: I had asthma.
     "Oh no!" I said. I was on the basketball and volleyball teams at my school, and I realized that having asthma would make me not able to play in my games as hard as I would want to. I will NOT let this mess up my playing! I thought.

When we got home, I sat in my room sulking. I had a basketball game that night, and I really wanted to go. I didn't think my mother would let me, but I decided to ask anyway.
     "Mom!" I yelled down the hallway, "Can I go to my game tonight?"
     "You can go, sweetie, but you sure can't play in it!" she replied.
     "Ugh," I groaned. If I went, I would just torture myself by not being able to play. I decided not to go, and stayed in my room all by myself for the rest of the night.

The next day as I walked to school with my friends, I told them the news.
     "Guys, guess what?" I asked.
     "What?" came the reply.
     "I have asthma," I answered.
     "You do? How bad is it?" my best friend Skylar asked. "Are you still allowed to play sports? That would be terrible if you couldn't. I know how much playing sports means to you. And you're really good."
     "The doctor says its pretty bad, but I can still play. I'm just supposed to take is easy, and take a break when I start to have trouble breathing," I informed them.
     "Ohhhh okay."
     As we walked the rest of the way to school in silence, I let my mind wander. My next basketball game was in two days. How could I figure out how to pace myself to still play really well, and not get hurt?
     I guess I didn't look happy that day at school, because a lot of kids I knew came up to me and asked what was wrong. I knew I shouldn't have felt so bad for myself because there are so many people worse off than I was, but at that time I didn't care. I was upset at the world and every time someone asked what happened, I yelled at them "NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS." Most people stayed away after that.

The next day I woke up with a better attitude. All day I was apologizing to people I had been rude to the day before. By the end of the day, I had restored all of my friendships and I wasn't as mad.
     When I got home, I got a snack and finished my homework quickly. Then I went outside to practice my layups. I made sure to take breaks when I started to get short on breath.
     An hour later, my mom called me inside to eat dinner. After dinner I got ready for my game. I must have spent longer than I thought I had because in what felt like a few minutes, my little sister, Michaela, was calling me.
     "Nikki! Mom and Dad are ready. If we don't leave right now you're going to be late."
     "Coming!" I yelled back.
     All the car ride there I was lectured about how I should not play too hard or hurt myself. I pretended to listen, nodding and "Yup"ing at the appropriate times.
     As we got out of the car to go in the gym, Mom whispered to me "Be safe honey."
     "Yeah, yeah, yeah," I said as I ran into the building.
     As the buzzer went off and the game started, I tried to focus on the game and not think about my asthma. It turned out I didn't have to worry about that, because right then my teammate passed me the ball. I dribbled up the court and made an easy layup. Soon after that I got caught up in the game and wasn't thinking about anything else.
     The game seemed to go by very quickly. Before I knew it, there was only five minutes left in the game, but I was starting to have trouble breathing. I considered taking a rest but decided not to. Right then, someone on the other team passed the ball to their teammate. I stole it, and dribbled it up the court. There was no one to stop me as I got closer and closer to the basket. Now I was pretty close to the hoop and my breathing was getting worse.
     Suddenly, I couldn't breathe at all anymore and I collapsed. I saw the floor rushing to meet my face. Then I heard a loud BANG. I felt a terrible pain in my head, and everything went black.

When I came to, I was on a white bed in a white room. I heard a relieved gasp from right next to me. I rolled over to see my parents and siblings sitting on chairs next to my hospital bed.
     "Oh honey!" my mother exclaimed, "I'm so glad you're alright!"
     I became aware of a throbbing pain in my head. "My head hurts," I said.
     "Well of course it does Nikki, but you're going to be fine," my mother replied.
     Right then the doctor entered the room holding a clipboard with lots of papers on it. I figured they were probably all about the tests they had run on me to see if any major damage had happened.
     "Oh, you're awake!" the doctor commented.
     "My head hurts," I repeated, "And I don't even remember what happened."
     "Well," my brother, Jordan, started, "You were dribbling the ball up the court when you fell. You hit the ground really hard and everyone heard a really loud noise. Then you weren't getting up and people ran over to you, some calling 911. An ambulance came and brought you here. You've been unconscious for two days."
     "You suffered a minor concussion. You were very fortunate," the doctor added.
     "We were all really worried about you Nikki," my father said.
     "Oh, well, I feel okay now except for a headache," I said.
     "In a few weeks you should be almost completely back to normal," the doctor said. "Although you will get headaches from time to time."
     "Will I be able to continue sports?" I asked.
     "Yes, but only if you wait a couple of weeks to let yourself heal," responded the doctor. "And this time listen to us and stop playing when you feel short of breath so this doesn't happen again. The next time, you might not be so lucky."
     "Okay, I promise," I agreed. I meant it this time.

A few weeks later, I got ready for my first basketball game since the concussion. Today, I promised myself, I will NOT get hurt.
     This time as the buzzer went off, I was not completely thinking about the game. Also in my mind I was noticing how well I was breathing.
     Towards the end of the third quarter I started to have a little trouble. I asked my coach if I could sit out for a while and she agreed.
     We went on to win the game, and I didn't do too bad for my first game in four weeks. I made 25 of our 76 points, had 4 assists, 5 steals, and 6 rebounds.
     When I came out of the locker room, my mother greeted me with a big hug.
     "I'm so proud of you Nikki!" she said.
     "Thanks, Mom," I replied.
     As we headed off to get dinner, I thought back to the past few weeks. As much as I hated to admit it, the adults had been right the whole time. I decided then and there that I would try to listen to them more. I might have sometimes been out of breath, but I was still in the game.