Posted: Thu Dec 30, 2010 9:13 am
It was 1954. I was sitting in my third grade seat during class, when I got a sudden stomach ache. It was no ordinary ache. The pain was sharp and extreme in nature, and it just would not go away. A little kid doesn’t know too much about what’s happening inside their body, but my eight year old mind went to work and figured out that I must be having an appendicitis attack!
Kids wouldn’t even think of asking the teacher if they could go to the bathroom during class. That just didn’t happen in the 1950’s. But my pain was so severe that I timidly went up to the teacher’s desk and asked if I could go to the bathroom. Permission granted, I quietly left the classroom, and walked down the hallway to the Boys Room.
Once inside, I went to a stall, got inside, sat down on the toilet and prepared to die! I had heard about appendicitis and I thought I knew what was going to happen. I just sat there, alone in the room and shaking with fear.
Suddenly, my body let loose with a large release of gas. A little while later I noticed that my stomach pain had gone, and it was then that I realized what had happened—my appendix must have burst and death was near! What does an eight year old know? Just enough to be scared to death.
I had heard that appendicitis gives a lot of pain and eventually the appendix bursts. That bursting relieves the painful pressure for a while—and I had stopped feeling pain—so I knew my appendix had burst. I just sat there waiting to die. As the poisons flowed thru my system, I didn’t know quite what to expect, but I knew death was near. I looked at the floor and tired to figure where I would collapse to when I passed out.
Fear gripped me. My breathing became fast and shallow. I broke out in a sweat. I felt all numb and dizzy. My body felt tingly all over. I didn’t know that I was experiencing my very first Panic Attack. I had never even heard of such a thing. All I knew was that I was going to be as dead as a doornail, right there in the Boys Room. I wondered who would find me.
After around 5-10 minutes I figured out that I probably didn’t have appendicitis after all, and that powerful release of gas was the cause of my pain. I left the Boys Room and sheepishly entered the classroom. Nobody missed me, and nobody noticed me come back. Not a single person realized that I had experienced a Panic Attack, and neither did I. It felt much more like a very real brush with death. Fifty five years later I discovered what had actually happened to me, and where all those strange symptoms came from. I wish I had known then what I know about anxiety.
Kids wouldn’t even think of asking the teacher if they could go to the bathroom during class. That just didn’t happen in the 1950’s. But my pain was so severe that I timidly went up to the teacher’s desk and asked if I could go to the bathroom. Permission granted, I quietly left the classroom, and walked down the hallway to the Boys Room.
Once inside, I went to a stall, got inside, sat down on the toilet and prepared to die! I had heard about appendicitis and I thought I knew what was going to happen. I just sat there, alone in the room and shaking with fear.
Suddenly, my body let loose with a large release of gas. A little while later I noticed that my stomach pain had gone, and it was then that I realized what had happened—my appendix must have burst and death was near! What does an eight year old know? Just enough to be scared to death.
I had heard that appendicitis gives a lot of pain and eventually the appendix bursts. That bursting relieves the painful pressure for a while—and I had stopped feeling pain—so I knew my appendix had burst. I just sat there waiting to die. As the poisons flowed thru my system, I didn’t know quite what to expect, but I knew death was near. I looked at the floor and tired to figure where I would collapse to when I passed out.
Fear gripped me. My breathing became fast and shallow. I broke out in a sweat. I felt all numb and dizzy. My body felt tingly all over. I didn’t know that I was experiencing my very first Panic Attack. I had never even heard of such a thing. All I knew was that I was going to be as dead as a doornail, right there in the Boys Room. I wondered who would find me.
After around 5-10 minutes I figured out that I probably didn’t have appendicitis after all, and that powerful release of gas was the cause of my pain. I left the Boys Room and sheepishly entered the classroom. Nobody missed me, and nobody noticed me come back. Not a single person realized that I had experienced a Panic Attack, and neither did I. It felt much more like a very real brush with death. Fifty five years later I discovered what had actually happened to me, and where all those strange symptoms came from. I wish I had known then what I know about anxiety.
I guess that goes to show you how sensitive I was and pretty obedient. I did not like to break the rules. 
P.