It was the beginning of first grade. One at a time, each of us would go over to the big round table in the corner and read through a picture book with Mrs. P so that she could get a gauge on our reading levels. When it was my turn though, something was wrong.
I’m usually a very strong reader for my age, but now.. I couldn’t make sense of the letters on the page. Not just that, my vision was swimming and I couldn’t even really see the page properly.
Then it was black.
My vision was dark, only vaguely seeing colors and shapes in my surroundings, but I could hear Mrs. P frantically sending someone to go get the teacher across the hall. I was in her arms… how did I get there?
We were moving across the center of the school, me hanging like a lifeless doll in her arms as she runs past the flagpole at the center of campus and toward the office.
Then I’m on the little cushioned bed in the nurse’s office. I see the red case of the glucagon, and then… suddenly (aka several minutes later)… I’m awake. Mrs. P and just about every person who works in the office is standing around, looking relieved.
The nurse says cheerfully, as the nurse seems to always manage to be, “Well Laura, we just had quite a scare! Your mom is on her way to come get you though, so you get the day off!”
Not even five minutes later, my mom rushes in, hugs me tightly, hugs Mrs. P, hugs the nurse, and then hugs me again. We leave school, and go out for lunch.
The next day, I find out my reading level. It was fairly low compared to my peers in the advanced reading group, and I was a bit salty that I didn’t even get to retake the reading test.
Alright so we’ll just pretend that I have an excuse for disappearing for like an entire month and just continue on as if it never happened, okay? Okay.
Also I would like to note that this is probably not exactly how these events went down, due to the fact that I was 6 when it happened and I was also dangerously low.