I don't know why I'm alive. I should be dead. I've survived the impossible and come out of hard times with less than a scratch. I'm one of the healthiest people with Cystic Fibrosis in the world, even though I was hit pretty hard with trouble in my early childhood. I've defied the laws of everything, since God saved me when medicine couldn't, even if I doubted His obvious miracle the next day. I guess God knows when it'll sink it, which it usually does weeks or months or years later.

When I was first sick with Pseudomonas, almost a year ago, I was rushed to the ER. It was the night of September 11th, 2017, and I was rapidly deteriorating. My mom had a little finger pulse-ox monitor from Amazon which she tested to make sure it was accurate. My oxygen-blood count is usually in the low to mid 90s, but on this night it was hovering just above 85 and was getting lower. My mom called the doctors to ask them if this was normal, and they immediately freaked out and told her to bring me to the ER right then and there! If it dropped below 80, I could die, and it was lowering every hour. 

To say I was terrified is an understatement. I was basically on an airplane that just lost its wings. Talk about the worst anxiety attack ever, while trying to breathe though a bloody sinus infection and damaged lungs. I couldn't breathe, and with a hospital stay absolutely imminent, I didn't know what to do. I just curled up in a corner and didn't leave until my mom dragged me out by my sleeve. I chewed my nails until they bled, and I was met with hospital staff ten minutes after mom shoved me in the car. Mom was probably just as scared as I, but she didn't show it. She remained stern with me and stood next to me as the doctors and nurses took my vitals. 

I remember the nurse looking at the pulse-ox monitor with confusion. She shook her head, unhooked me, and brought in another monitor. She hooked me up again, and she had the same look on her face. My mom got curious as the nurse pressed a few buttons, shook her head again, and then began to explain to my mom what was going on. Both monitors read my pulse-ox level as being between 94 and 96, and was increasing by the minute. Never in my life have I had such high pulse-ox numbers, and the nurses didn't know what the deal was! My heart rate was nearing 180 beats per minute, and another nurse stood by just in case I passed out. I felt like I was gonna die, and every time I stood up I stumbled, but I refused to go into a wheelchair. Every few breaths I coughed, and my nostrils were flared even though I couldn't get any air through them. 

My mom was shocked by my numbers, and asked the nurse if it was glitching. The nurse switched me between the two monitors, and concluded that it was in fact accurate, and by then I had a pulse-ox of 97. The nurse decided to bring me to a private room in the back with another monitor, and my mom helped me into a hospital gown. I was hooked up to the third monitor in the room, and my pulse-ox started at 96 and increased to 98. By then, my doctors had ordered sinus and lung X-rays, so I was taken out for those. Meanwhile, my mom called my grandpa to ask him to collect my little brother (who was forced to come along and would be staying with my grandparents during my hospital stay), and told him what was going on. 

After my X-rays, a nurse put me back on the monitor, and everyone's eyes widened (except mine. I was too out of it by then to really comprehend what was going on). My grandpa arrived, and he immediately started thanking God. My mom joined him in his prayer, as my pulse-ox stayed at a solid 100 for the rest of the night. Not only is this impossible for someone in Colorado, but it was really impossible for me! I've never had a pulse-ox so high before, and probably never will again. In fact, every staff member managing the ER that night paid me a visit just to see my numbers. Some of them praised the Lord just like my mom and grandpa were, and others just stared in awe for a few moments and left. My mom and grandpa had tears in their eyes, and mom sent a picture of my pulse-ox monitor to almost everyone she knew. 

When my X-rays were reviewed, I was a little stuffy in my lungs and my sinuses were definitely full, but I wasn't in much pain and my pulse-ox was impossibly high, so I was free to go and stay at home until I was well again. One doctor practically chastised me for wasting 2 hours at the ER. My mom told him to yell at my doctors since they were the ones who made us come, and I just said I wanted to go home. In fact, for the whole night that's all I said except for when I answered yes and no questions. My heart rate had slowed to around 80 by then, and my pulse-ox stayed at 100 until they unplugged me and gave me the green light to leave. 

My mom got me my favorite food from the store, which included two things of sushi and a gallon of diet lemonade. As soon as I got home and finished my late-night dinner, I crashed in my bed for another 14 hours. It didn't really hit me until months later, when I beat Pseudomonas in April of this year, and looked back at my battle. Even now, as I type this, I've got chills and am choked up.