Toyjunk-The Dolphin

      Everyone thinks that I am getting better for I look thinner. A healthy sign. Others would judge.  They would call me skinny. I like it. I get a perception that I am becoming a super model with my looks. Weird and crazy. The truth is. I have been sick. I know I am sick. Let me tell you the story. Let me start wih  magic word,    

     " Eschemia"

         My eyes grew large as I looked at my ECG results. I knew something was wrong. I have been hyper ventilating. Endling panting follows short walks. I knew something was wrong. Unfortunately, I still had to see our school dctor the next day for the routinary check up. I was too bothered. I researched at the library and found out the meaning of the findings. Eschemia is an irregularity of the hearbeat. Oh no. I was dying. (Of course that over reaction is a norm for a worrier like me.)

    That night was the longest. All night, I was muttering the word eschemia. It kept on reverberating on my ears. My heart beat in  pounding mode, repeating eschemia, louder…louder. Oh God. I wa dying.

    I woke up. Actually, I did not sleep. I took a bath with eschemia on my mind. I travelled to school with my sense focused on eschemia. I did my daiy routine with the pre-occupation, the sickness I didn ‘t understand. Oh God! I was dying. I was sure.

     Nothing much had happened that morning. Or it was better to say that the same thing happened in that span of time of waiting the doctor. I thought of eschemia. It was killing me the wait. Oh God. I was dying.

       The time arrived that I had to see the doctor. I was trembling .I couldn’t move on my place. I approached the doctor with reluctance. My voice was cracking when I asked him about his diagnoses. Eschemia was  still on my mind. I was sure that I was dying. Oh. God. Death was coming.

     The verdict came like an arrow heading into my heart. Eschemia was a sign of a heart attack. He advised me to see my cardiologist. I had to see her immediately. Oh God. I was dying. Death would befall me. It was horrible. I was not ready.

      I moved out of the clinic  with a heavy feet. I decided to see my doctor at the very moment. "Eschemia" still in my mind but now piercing my worries to the hilt. God! Not now. I don’t want to die.

   That afternoon, I saw Dr. Canela. The wait was long. I ws praying hard. I was conditoning myself. If she would tell me that I would die. I would accept it. I would just prepre myself. Then the good news was  broken. She shed light to my worry. She told me that I worry too much. My condition of eschemia had been around since I already had a stroke.She had my 2D echo and found out thet my heart is still normal. Oh God. I was still not dying. I could only mutter words of thanks to the Lord.

   I realized that worry would not do good for me. I better try to understand things first before I react. Oh God, I was dying and I almost died because I thought so. Fool me.

     I just pray that you continue praying for me for courage. I still am fighting for  lot of worries. My aversion with medicines result to endless vomitting and nauseus bout. I can’t eat enough. I am  losing weight . Imagine, even steaks which were my favorites does not entice my appetite. The worse fer is haunting me . I got bulimia. I got this because of my careless dieting. I am getting tired of being sick.

      Oh God. I am dying. Oh not. I can bear   this. Just bear with me in this predicament.I know I will. I am a survivor.

          I seem to look great. I am thinner. They tease me with the name Kristine Munchkin,the name  is like a  parody of  the supermodels Gissele Bundchken and Kate Moss. Funny, If only they the difficulty.I would not want to be a supermodel, worse a junkie. Spare me. Pray for me.