The shock. The worry. I realized I had just done the thing the one thing I was not supposed to do.

I ran out of the library gasping for air running to get the only thing that could save me — my EpiPen. I didn’t have much time and I knew that I had to get to the nurse’s office.

I panicked as I tried to stick myself with the EpiPen. Luckily, the nurse grabbed it from me and stuck it straight into my leg. I will always remember the counting — one Mississippi, two Mississippi, three Mississippi … all the way to 10. Then she pulled it out.

I was scared. Really scared.

Within minutes EMS showed up. By this time, I had started to feel better, but I knew I still had to go to the hospital. And I am glad I did.

When I got to the hospital, I started to feel like myself again. I even played dead on the gurney when my mom arrived, which she did not find funny.

After an exposure and using the Epipen I knew I would have to wait two hours in the hospital. And for those two hours, I felt fine.

Finally, it was time to go home. The nurse started to take out my IV. I was excited and ready to leave.

But right as she took the IV out, my lips started to swell my eyes and hives broke out all over my body. It was hard to breathe. Another EpiPen shot.

Nothing. No change. Still hard to breathe.

Everyone was in a panic. Everyone was freaking out. I will always remember my mom openly crying in front of me as I laid there gasping for air.

Second EpiPen. No change. Harder to breathe.

The nurses were rushing around me and grabbing doctors. I don’t remember everything — but I remember one doctor saying that we were going to intensive care, and they were going to put a picc line directly into my heart.

Then, another doctor came in and suggested albuterol. The nurse put the mask on my face, and slowly it was easier to breathe. Slowly the swelling and hives started to go away.

I started to calm down, and things started to go back to normal. But because I had a rebound reaction, I had to spend the night at the hospital. The only problem was, there was no children’s unit at the hospital I was at. So it was time for another ambulance ride.

In the ambulance, I started to have a third reaction. Thankfully, this reaction was mostly hives all over my body — large, red, giant, hives all over my arms, chest, back, legs — everywhere. They itched so bad.

Thankfully, the next EpiPen slowed the hives down, and the swelling in my face. I was moved from the ER to a regular room in the hospital.

It was a rough night. They were monitoring me super closely, so every time I moved in my sleep, this machine would make a noise.

I didn’t really get much sleep that night. I felt better in the morning, and it felt good to know that I was going to be home soon.

I tell this story to make people understand that not allergies are no joke. Serious things can happen. If that albuterol didn’t work on my first rebound reaction, I may not be sitting at my computer right now typing my story.

My exposure was accidental. I was at a cultural fair at my middle school, and a parent didn’t put pistachios on the ingredients list. But not all exposures are accidents.

A couple of months ago some athletes at Lake Travis High School knowingly put peanuts in a kid’s locker — and that kid has a severe peanut allergy. It wasn’t funny. It wasn’t cool. It wasn’t right.

Allergies suck. I hate that I have to ask if something has nuts in it every time I get ready to order food, and I hate that my mom bugs me to take my Epipen with me – all of the time.

But what I hate more is when people think allergies are a joke. My life is not a joke.