One of the scariest days of my life would definitely be when my mother fell into a coma. It was an early September morning, and I had just gotten out of the shower and started making breakfast. My phone rang and I picked it up. It was my father. His voice was shaky and quiet, and he said to rush to our hospital as quickly possible. The fact that he did not explain anything to me, only terrified me more. I was smashing the gas the entire drive to the hospital. Countless thoughts pounded in my head. What happened? Is someone sick? Or injured? Or…dead? The last one terrified me, and I pushed my thoughts to the side. I arrived and saw my tearful family. My father tried to explain what happened, but all that came out was a choking sob. The hospital staff explained my mother was in a head on collision with another car, and it didn’t look good. I sat by her bedside, and prayed. I became so paranoid, the slightest sounds bothered me, like the beeping of the machines in the background. Or the cooling breeze in the room, and even the air conditioning turning on and off. I spent everyday by her bedside and prayed. After what felt like an eternity, she did come out. It was a long and slow process of getting her feeling better and back onto her feet. But I was just thankful she was alive. Ever since then, I can no longer enjoy AC, it continually reminds me of the hospital, and how they always had their noisy cooling system running.