The Day I Didn't Die

I lay there struggling for air, the fire-chief straddling me, pumping my lungs with his huge hands. I had never met the fire-chief before. But somehow, I knew this was him. For a moment we looked right into each others' eyes. But he never seemed to notice. Then, he was off me. For a second, I thought I must no longer be struggling for air. Then he was pounding my chest - very hard! Too hard! So this was what CPR felt like.
If I'd had any strength at all I would have plowed my fist right into his jaw to make him stop. But I didn't. These people were trying to help me. But it was no use. I still couldn't breathe. And now, apparently my heart had stopped. But at least I wasn't struggling to breathe anymore. Then an oxygen mask was clamped to my face by the fire-chief's large hand. And I knew they must be rushing me to the hospital.
It was all too much. My mind became a swirl. And I went to sleep. I woke up in a rush, sitting up, checking to make sure I was breathing. Then I realized I hadn't. I had woken up in a rush all right. But I was still lying down, unable to move. And as for breathing, that was being done for me. Tube in my throat. Oxygen mask around my head, now held in place by a strap rather than the fire chief's hand.
I expected to hear the sound of a patient monitor, like on all those hospital shows. But I didn't. Either it was too faint, or the shows exaggerated it. I realized that TV shows were my only frame of reference. I had never been in a hospital room before, or at least not one where somebody was dying or near death, as I was now. I tried to look around, but couldn't see too much of the room. Rating PG; Reading Level Very Easy 3rd Grade; Longest Word: Excruciatingly