The Light at The End of The Tunnel
As I'm sitting here at my usual Starbucks, I stumbled upon an article in Buzzfeed on people witnessing death. Which is silly, since I should be researching for my final essay. After reading the article, I am reminded by my own near death experience, too many to count. However, of all the experience that I had so far, the one that I still vividly remember was the one when I was barely 7-year-old, when I almost drowned in a hotel pool. I was there with my then best friend, my younger sister, and our nanny. When Nadya, the name of my friend, asked to swim across the deeper side of the pool, I already felt hesitant. My swimming skill was sketchy at best, and there was no lifeguard present. Still, I said yes, and although it was okay at first, in the middle of our crossing, right at the deepest part of the pool, something snapped in me and I panicked. I started to drown, and water got into my lungs. I remember seeing my friend screaming for help from the other side of the pool, and my nanny as well. When the water got into my lungs, it was so painful to breathe. I told myself not to panic, but I was desperate for air, kicking the bottom of the floor as hard and often as I could. I remember thinking, God if I have to die right here, right now, please do it rightaway. I honestly thought that was the end of me. I even stopped kicking. And then out of nowhere, a man came rescuing me, right when I lost all the air in my lungs.
And when I was a bit younger, maybe around 4, my family was on a holiday trip to this small city, Penang. My parents were checking out of the hotel, and my sister and I were playing on the stairs in front of the hotel. Just like any other hotel, there was a slope near the stairs for luggage and whatnot. I remember walking up and down the slope, until suddenly my feet slipped and I fell face first on that slope. The first thought was pain, and then panic when I could not breathe. I tried reaching for my sister, but she thought I was joking. When finally the doorman saw me blue and choking, he called out for help, my parents running toward us. I remember again that feeling of not able to breathe. I truly, definitely was going to die. My lips were blue, my eyes unfocused. And then again, a man just got off the car, and when he saw the commotion, he told everyone to turn my body face down and insert fingers into my mouth to induce cough. He was mute, so it took some time for people to understand what he was trying to tell us. But again, I was saved, at the very last seconds. No one really knows, not even the doctors we went after that accident, why I could not breathe after the fall. Although it did not impact my lungs or ribcage, to this day I have this fear of slopes or slippery surface.
Although I managed to conquer my fear of drowning and actually love swimming now, I never really got over my fear of slopes and slippery surface. Sometimes I wonder why, but I don't really dwell on these stuff anyway.
To this day, I try my very best to help others, because really, the reason I'm still here, posting this is because of the kindness of those two men. I would 100% be dead had they chose not to care, something that I sadly see way too often these days.
I cannot help but wonder, does my existence make this world a better place? Does anyone feel blessed with me living, walking on this planet? Have I done enough with what I am given in my 32 years here, or does God regret giving me so much?
At the end of the day, I want to be the light at the end of that tunnel. I want to be useful, I want to help. I hope that God did not make a mistake when He decided that I should live longer.
