What Kind of Mood Are You In Today?

Saturday, February 6, 2010

Chaperones in White Jackets

Did you read this yet?

What about this?

NO?  Then go there NOW!  And in that order!

There I am, like a damsel in distress in an old black-and-white melodrama.  I began to gain a sort of semi-consciousness as he lifted me into the car.  It was so strange.  I literally felt like I was floating.  I could not feel him at all.

He shot around to the driver's side and took off like a...well, a guy who thought his date might be dying.  I don't remember much of the start of the drive, but by the time we reached the emergency room, I was fully recovered.  

We checked in, though it really felt quite silly to walk in looking perfectly normal and saying I needed to see a doctor. 

Now, these were the days where not everyone had a cell phone.  To own one was something, at least in my mind at the time, only the rich or the business man/woman owned.  I certainly didn't own one and if Travis did, it was his work phone and he was absolutely forbidden to use it for personal calls.  After I checked in at the window, Travis went to find a pay phone.

Travis called my mother.  

"Linda, this is Travis.  I'm here with Rachael in the emergency room.  She passed out."

"Travis," my mother said, "You're just kidding me."

Travis did have a thing for practical jokes.  He was widely known for them.  Some of them were pretty...I wouldn't call them good, but they make great stories (one of which you will get to hear later...).  

"Linda, I'm not joking.  I wouldn't joke about something like this."

It took a bit more persuasion on Travis' part, but he finally did convince my mother of the truth.  I was indeed in the emergency room and I had actually passed out.

Well, the time between my mom arriving at the hospital with my brother and the next morning are not all that exciting, other than Travis taking my brother out in the dark and giving him a rose, but Travis wants you in suspense on that one.  

Why did I pass out?  After waiting for HOURS, drawing blood, running tests, and going through a CAT scan, the final diagnosis...?


It was a very busy time for me.  I was the All Student Body President that year, so I was privileged to be able to do a speech at graduation.  I totally loved it, I was totally honored to do it, but it was pretty nerve-wracking, as you can well imagine.  I was also part of the committee that was planning the Senior Trip to Disneyland.  Again, I totally loved it, I was totally honored to do it, but it was also pretty nerve-wracking.  

Mind you, I am about to step off into a whole new arena in life.  Perhaps not so much as others since I was going to live at home, but one without my childhood friends and one in which I would be expected to foot a little more of the bill.  (Thank you, Mom!)

And to top it off, I decided to start that new adventure in life a little early.  I barely pulled a C in Precalculus and, at the time, I thought I wanted to go to Medical School.  If that were the case, I would likely have to take Calculus in college and I knew I wasn't prepared for that. 

I decided to take Precalculus again at the local junior college during the summer, but their summer started before my last day of high school.  I was going to high school in the morning and college in the afternoon.  Finals and fast-paced, college-sized homework at the same time.  And I wasn't doing much better at Precalculus in college than I was in high school.  No, I was actually doing worse.  I was getting D's and F's and that was not something I was used to.  It crushed me.

And when I had to make the decision to drop that class, I felt like a failure.  Here I was, my first step into the new arena of life, and I was already falling flat on my face.  WHY couldn't I get it??  This should be review!  My answer was that I just wasn't smart enough.  Not good enough.  Born defective.  I was letting everyone down.  My teachers, my parents, my friends...they would all finally see me for who I was.  (As if that were a bad thing!)

Yeah, wasn't a very confident person at age 17.

I dropped the class that week and was going out with Travis...THE Travis...on that weekend.  It was really more than I could handle.  I suppose the kiss was the final straw and once we got to his car, my mind and body needed to check out.  

The emergency room is certainly not where I planned to end our first date and my mother certainly didn't plan on having to pick me up there.  I suppose the doctors in white jackets were great chaperones, though.  They prevented, at least for a night, another electrifying encounter with...

No comments:

Post a Comment