Victim Without Vaccination

I deliberated for some time on what I wanted to write about with this project. This style of writing is far more into my wheelhouse; I enjoy writing stories and being truly able to paint a picture. I wanted to write something that holds meaning to me still today.

For the large part of my young life heading into my later high school years; i was plagued with many, no more than inconvenient, health problems. I still to this day get sick all the time and have an undiagnosed stomach issue which is believed (by me) to be hereditary but I digress. This is the story of how in the third grade little Colin Donahue got swine flu, and the important details surrounding of course.

As I stated prior I had always had health problems. I was always a germaphobe and made sure I was always clean, this did not help me from getting the flu several times despite having vaccinations. I had asthma for all my life; it was very mild, but I did have the go-go gadget inhaler and the whole face mask that for me at the time looked like something out of a Christopher Nolan movie. I was that guy after recess in elementary school who would take my “puffs” outside class, at halftime during my soccer games my mother would run the contraption over to me due to my need for the medicine. I remember distinctly, at Cramer park on a spring Sunday my mother had sprinted over the inhaler and lovingly told me to, due to my (rare) poor performance “get the lead out of my ass.” That was absolutely shocking to hear as an 8 year old.

This is not important, what is important is how I felt, horribly embarrassed, ashamed and thinking to myself this is the worst thing in the world. I would have terrific stamina one match then be gasping for breath after five minutes the next; I could not bear it, I was being hindered playing what I loved.

In the third grade with my soccer season in full swing I was not looking for another obstacle to clear. Sure enough. I was very sick at home for a day or so when I had started to have trouble walking, I realized when I woke up that morning. After being in bed for the rest of the day, I had tried to go and collect myself more fluids, I got up and just as quickly was met with my face on the floor. My parents drove me up to the same hospital in which I was born 8 years earlier. The one season in which I was away for a showcase was the same one in which I failed to get vaccinated, but this was not the reason for me having gotten so sick.

After a few hours in the ER I was moved to a room where I was told I would be staying the night. I was told the same night that I had what’s called Swine Flu and that is why I am so ill and, for now, cannot walk. Apparently I got sick due to dehydration among other things, one being swine flu and decided to come back in extra force for a season.

I did not really grasp what was going on; I knew I was sick and that I couldn’t help myself, so I was just kind of there to see how it goes. I remember feeling that same emotion as when I could hardly breathe at my soccer games; disappointed and angry that I must be confined to this state. It was terribly sad for me at that age.

I needed help when I had to relieve myself in the middle of the night; but this time I was in a far better mood knowing that I could stand up and hobble with assistance. The sensation from then and the next two days or so is something I will never forget; it was like someone had put cinder blocks on my calves and I was forced to stand up straight. It was truly bizarre. It should be noted that shortly before this point it was confirmed that I was going to be totally fine; I just had to stay for a few more days.

I recounted something my grandmother had drilled into me which was to be thankful and grateful for what I have. I was in a constant state of discomfort and irritation. I had yet to come to this realization, which was right in front of me. I had failed to realize the meaning of why I was in the hospital until my second evening there. My father had brought me a vanilla milkshake that was far too big for me to drink even half of it. I threw up said milkshake minutes later. After cleaning myself up and getting back into my hospital bed I was given yet another IV to put in my arm. I hated the sensation of the needle finding its way into my body and for it to stay there skeeves me out. It was then, my dad putting on Doctor Doolittle in the hospital TV that it “clicked” for me. I knew just how lucky I was to be where I was right now. I was not even aware that some years ago Swine Flu was almost a death sentence; I only thought of how much discomfort I was in. I had realized while looking around me, my family who had come to visit, the sheer amount of balloons in my room.

I was far from unfortunate. It finally washed over me when I was in the hospital and to this day it has been a part of me. I know how lucky I am, how fortunate to live a life of privilege and worry about things like minor illness or making the soccer team. Some people do not like the idea of “someone else has got it worse” but I think society should consider this more often. I am grateful for what I have been given and learned at a young age to take great care in what I have been able to live with.