When was the last time we said thank you to God for what we have?

We wake up every day without saying thank you for being alive, we wake up without saying thank you for our health. We live our lives and never stop to think about what would happen if we weren’t here anymore. 

As I lay in bed, I stare at the white popcorn ceiling asking myself ‘When will I be cured again?’ ‘When will I go back to my normal life?’ ‘When will I see my friends again?’ ‘When will I go back to school?’ I don’t ask why this happened though because I know I deserve it. I deserve it for being selfish and arrogant. 

It’s been an exhausting month of being stuck at home with an itchy feeling in my throat and reddened eyes. A constant fever warms my body as sweat trickles down my throbbing forehead. My stomach churns at the mere thought of digesting a single ounce of food. At first I thought it was just another sickness and that I would get better in a day or two, but I didn’t. Worry flooded my mother’s eyes when I’d walk past her in our apartment. I’m disappointed in myself for treating her badly and she’s still here taking care of me  I thought about all the times I talked back to her or when I rolled my eyes at her because I thought she was “annoying”. 

I was such an ungrateful person. 

I didn’t value what I had. I had friends and family who care about me, I had a roof over my head and a cat to keep me company as I ate the food, thankfully, on my table. Though, I still had the audacity to say I didn’t have anything or anybody. 

“It’s been a month and she’s not getting better. We need to take her to a hospital. She doesn’t even eat, we have to go today.” 

I heard my mom talking to my dad on the phone as I tried to drink a spinach smoothie she made for me. As I took another sip, a sharp pain in my chest caused me to lose what little breath I’ve got left in my lungs. I can’t take it anymore, I’m done. 

As I walked through the hospital hallways, my legs felt as if they were made of jello. When arriving at the checkup room, I get comfortable on the noisy parchment paper-covered bed as anticipation settles in my stomach. I see both my parents sitting beside me just chatting and watching me. A nurse comes in and takes me to another room in order to go through a series of tests. I lost count of the amount of exams I had to endure that day. 

Finally the results came back, and with it, the cause of my illness. 

“Your daughter has pneumonia.”

My enemy all this time has been pneumonia. 

I eventually came back to school, but I wasnt the same person anymore. Everyone from school would always tell me that I changed. They all had questions and everyone wanted to know what happened to me.

Pneumonia is just a sickness, but for me it was a life-changing experience. It allowed me to see we only have one life, meaning we only have one chance to do things right. We can’t go back to fix our mistakes, but we can make our future a better tomorrow. 

Sometimes ungrateful Samantha tries to come back, but whenever she tries to come by, all I have to do is look around and see all the wonderful people who surround me. I don’t need her in my life, I have created a better version of myself and this version is staying for good. 

All I can say is that if it wasn’t for pneumonia, I would still be that same ungrateful brat.

Thank you pneumonia for the lesson.