The first night after the world’s worst pandemic ended, I woke up at 5am with a headache and a little bit of dizziness.
It felt like I had just been hit by a car.
I thought, I hope I don’t have a stroke.
I had been on holiday in Thailand and I had been looking forward to the day when all of us would be able to go home and just relax.
But the first night was a total nightmare.
The last thing I expected to experience was waking up in a hospital in a dazed, unresponsive state.
I had no idea that there was going to be so much chaos.
My mind was racing with thoughts of how to move, where to go and what to do.
It’s difficult to think about things and you feel like you’re in a panic.
I knew I needed to get my bearings before the next day started.
I went back to the hotel, where my friend had arranged a room for me.
I was tired and I felt very drowsy.
I told her I needed a break and she said, let’s go get coffee.
I’m tired and can’t think straight, so I asked her if I could stay with her and she agreed.
I started drinking coffee and the next thing I know, I’m in bed.
I’ve never been to a hospital, so it’s very hard to describe how it felt.
There was no pain or anything that was threatening, just me being in bed in a bed.
I woke from a dream, woke up in the hospital, and was told that I had pneumonia and that I needed antibiotics.
I was in a dark room with a huge bed, I had an IV in my arm, I could barely speak.
The doctor told me that my pneumonia was caused by the bacteria that are in my intestines.
It was an awful feeling and I was very upset.
I wanted to cry, but I didn’t want to let anyone see what was happening to me.
The next day I was taken to the operating theatre and had my first round of antibiotics.
I took two tablets a day, which were the ones I used on my first two doses of antibiotics and I took a pill a day for the third.
By the fourth dose, I was completely healthy.
But I wasn’t.
I felt completely drowse and couldn’t talk.
I couldn’t feel my fingers or toes.
The doctors told me I was going back to sleep and that if I didn�t wake up tomorrow, I would die.
I wasn�t allowed to go back to bed.
After about three days, I started feeling really tired.
I got up and tried to walk, but my legs felt weak and I couldn�t stand up straight.
I lost control of my breathing and started coughing up blood.
I called my parents and told them that I couldnít get up.
I also called my father, who was in the intensive care unit at the hospital and was a nurse practitioner.
I asked him if I should go back in and get the morphine and he told me to get some sleep.
I needed more morphine to relax, so after an hour, I asked for a second dose.
I didnít know if I was still going to make it to bed or if I would fall asleep.
I remember my father saying, I think I might have to stay at home, so he told my mother to take me to the hospital.
I don�t remember what happened there.
When I got there, I found that my breathing was getting worse.
I just lay down on the bed and I could feel the needles in my legs and my arms.
I managed to get a second injection of morphine and I started to feel better.
But I couldn`t stop coughing up some blood and it got to the point where I was having a heart attack.
I still had to take two more pills and after that, I lost consciousness again.
After four days in hospital, I didn`t get any more morphine and then the doctors said that I was on antibiotics.
My stomach started hurting and I got a fever.
They put me in the ICU and I went into cardiac arrest.
I ended up having to have a cardiac catheter inserted into my heart and my heart started beating again.
The only thing I knew about that moment was that I woke to a big, round lump in my chest.
I said, I donít feel any pain, so why are I here?
They took the heart and then gave me a catheter and told me they would try to resuscitate me.
I woke up one morning to find my mother, father and sister waiting for me at the emergency ward.
I could see that they were shocked that I could still be breathing.
They were crying, so they had to give me a hug.