Around 3:30 am I woke up with the most awful, awful pain inside that I have ever felt in my life. I haven't cried because of pain for a long time. It was scary to feel so absolutely helpless; I couldn't walk, could barely move! Nothing's wrong according to the medical definition of wrong though, so don't worry.
This morning the pain had mostly faded to a constant, dull throbbing, like when you pull a muscle in your shoulder or neck. It's not too bad, so long as you don't move too fast. So I got up, skipped breakfast because looking at mom's toast made me feel nauseous, grabbed two sharpened pencils, three pieces of paper, my ID card, and prayed that I'd make it through the Stats final without passing out/throwing up.
It sounds dramatic. It kind of was. Meh.
At 11:15 am, the most dreaded exam of my life began. The hall itself was terrifying: that room could probably fit close to (or more than) 600 people. Now I know why people dread having American Heritage in JSB 140 -- you almost get swallowed up in the hugeness of it. Fewer people attended my high school football games!
Luckily it was quieter than a high school football game, and I was happy to find a seat on the end of a row. Immediately I tried to figure out a strategy to not drop all of my stuff (exam packet, bubble sheet, scratch paper, calculator, and pencils) because there truly was no place to put it. The auditorium desks are about two inches longer than an 8.5 x 11 inch piece of paper and maybe an inch wider. Not the best desk to take any sort of exam on. Strategy finalized (haha), I sat down to take the odious Departmental Statistics final.
But I didn't dread it so much after I finished the first page and realized there was no way I could have missed any of those questions. Despite the awkward, abyss-like feeling of the auditorium, the constant whispering shuffle of hundreds of exam papers, the cramped confines of my paper size desk, the dull pain in my body, and the ache in my head from a sleepless night, I knew that stuff. At 12:30 pm I walked out of the auditorium, trying to be afraid of my score, but I just knew I'd done better than what I was hoping for (a C). And guess what?
90%, my friends. Nine-zero, a straight up A- on the exam I have heard nothing but horror stories about. I could barely (still can barely) fathom the fact that I didn't fail that final. When I saw my ID number next to the 90%, I actually started laughing. The girl who'd scanned in my test smiled and said, "It's a good feeling, isn't it?"
It is indeed a good feeling. So is going home and sleeping from 1 pm to 5 pm without waking up once.
2 finals down, 2 to go. After that, three days in St. George with two of my favorite girls in the world. Bring on English and Humanities!
PS Prayer WORKS, people. If you've done all you can do, and worked as hard as you can despite your limitations, the Lord WILL help you. Give him a shot. He'll give you a miracle.