'Cherish Our Precious Ones' by Megan

This story is about my father. My family has a track record of heart problems. My grandfather and my uncles are heart attack victims; they had died such sudden deaths with little warning signs. My father is not spared. Though he exercised regularly, he did not believe in eating healthily and swore would never give up coke despite our advice.

The magnificent evening sky was iridescent, with the colours changing constantly as the sun moved towards the horizon. I was jogging along East Coast Park with my forty-two-year old father on that Friday evening. He was in front of me, too fast for me to catch up and I was panting like a dog!

I did not mind. He was fit and strong but I was as skinny as a skeleton. I could not run fast as I seldom exercise and had spent most of my time buried under a pile of books.

Out of the blue, my father stopped, bent over and began to clutch his chest with his hands. I almost knocked him over from behind. I was curious and asked him what the matter was. His face turned pale and he could not answer me. His body was trembling uncontrollably and he was coughing incessantly. He opened his mouth wide and started to gasp for air.

Beads of perspiration formed on his forehead. Before I knew it, he collapsed on the floor. Panic engulfed me.

I shouted 'DAD!' and started shaking his body violently. His body felt so cold. I tried not to cry. I told myself to stay calm and think of what I should do.

Without second thoughts, I whipped out my mobile phone and dialled for the ambulance.

"Hello? My father is in trouble! His hands are clutching against his chest! Heellp!"

Sensing my plight, the officer, who answered my distressed call, sent paramedics towards East Coast Park to help me.

The ambulance arrived in the twinkling of an eye. The paramedics carried a stretcher and loaded my father onto the ambulance. I followed too as they made a beeline for the hospital. I began to pray hard that my father would not die.

At the emergency room, my father lay motionless on the bed. He was unconscious and was not aware of what was happening around him.

Fortunately and much to my relief, the doctor told me my father had suffered a heart attack but it was not as serious.

He had been very fit and had been exercising a lot. I heaved a sign of relief at the phrase "not as serious." I was thankful that the doctor had saved my father's life! If not for the doctor, my father would have died.

When my father came to, he was surprised to see me.

"Megan!" he cried.

"Daddy!" I cried, with tears of joy streaming down my cheeks.

He hugged me tightly and I was happy that he was still alive and moving. My dear father was saved.

After that incident, I learnt that I must cherish my life and my precious loved ones, just like my father always loving me and spending all his time with me.

From that day onwards, my father observed a stricter diet on top of his excerise reigme. I exercised with him too. He began eating healthily and had totally stopped drinking his all time favourite coke.