Day Thirty-four - Apply some pressure

Oof. Day three of feeling like I was hit by a runaway truck, and I still feel a bit under the weather. I spent the better part of today resting, even managing to sneak in a quick nap after lunch, but I still feel the wight of the past few days in my body. Though the abdominal discomfort has greatly diminished, I feel bone weary, as if I had done some physical task that led me to exhaustion. It was the throwing up, I'm sure, that made me feel even worse than what I thought was in store, but well... them's the breaks. Now, where was I before I was so unexpectedly and violently derailed?

Ah yes, sixth grade, and before the school year ended something rather monumentous happened in my life : I had accute appendicitis and had to have urgent surgery in order to have it removed. So urgent indeed, that had it taken a bit longer than it did, I might have died. So that meant a few weeks recovery, probably one or maybe two in the hospital, which also meant that I missed out on the last few weeks of school as well. And this being a private school I was going to at the time, meant that me passing the year wasn't just down to my grades - I still had to take an exam and then I had to obviously pass it. So, you know, having missed out all that school time meant that I was somewhat at a disadvantage.. but the thing is, aloof and uninterested I might have shown myself to be as a student, I was never dumb. And when it came to the crunch, I aced my exams, especially my science exam . I got the highest grade in my school. And to think my idiot teacher thought he'd never pass his class?

Unfortunately for me, and while all this was happening, my appendectomy recovery actually wasn't proceeding according to plan. Something inside me got infected, and I was taken to the hospital where they had to cut me open without giving me any form of any anaesthesia, and boy, I'm sure that my yells still reverberate throughout that hospital's walls. For a while thereafter I had to go to the hospital for additional treatments, and what wasn't a nice looking scar to begin with became that much uglier. But that was that for sixth grade, and even before everything I just wrote about, I already knew that seventh grade would be in yet another different school. I had no way knowing just how influential that year would turn out to be, and not for the best reasons. A lot of things would begin coming to a head between '89, when I got to the seventh grade, and '91 - but those are stories to be told in the near future. It was a trip, though, reminiscing about this particular year. There's a parte of me that would maybe like to connect with some of those kids, to know what happened to them. Never gonna happen, though.