Hey. Kid. Just listen to me, okay?
Listen to me and breathe. Because if I'm doing my math correctly right now it is June 14th and you are a freshman in high school and you're about to chug down a bottle of Nyquil and give yourself the most mind-blowing asthma attack.
Here's the good news; despite what you're trying to do, you're going to live. The ingredient you are allergic to doesn't kick in until you're sitting in social studies the next afternoon, waiting for the school bell to ring. Here's the bad news; it's a close call, and you almost don't make it. They rush you to the hospital and when you pass out in the waiting room they're going to do a tracheal intubation. It's not going to work, and you're going to lose your memory from your brain cells dying off as they hit code blue and bring out the crash cart. And it's going to fucking hurt. You're one split second away from French kissing death, kid.
You're going to be just fine. You'll spend four and a half days in the hospital. Thr