Waiting on the emergency hospital floor, I waited for the arrival of a nurse, a doctor, or anyone willing to tell me about my sister’s health. I remember walking back and forth in the hospital, running into my parents, doctors, and thinking about why this happened to my sister.
This all began on June 21, 2010, the day that I will never forget. It was like any other perfect day, the sun was blooming, children were shouting and playing as always, and smell of summer filled the air. The day started as my family went out for an early visit to a small neighborhood about 10 miles east from my home in search for a new house. As, I entered into the car, I had a feeling that there was something wrong with my sister as she approached me. She had a discolored
Entry 1 The worst news I’ve ever received was when my mom told me that my aunt had cancer. Fortunately, the cancer was only at stage 1. At first, I couldn’t believe it since she has always been healthy and I’ve never heard anything about her being sick. Eventually, I came to accept the fact that my aunt had cancer even if I didn’t want to.
Quickly scurrying through the lobby with our hearts creating an earthquake , Hannah, Evan, and I had finally reached our destination, Room 307 of the Advocate Lutheran General Hospital. As we entered the room, Rosie lie faintly upon the stark white hospital bed which would be her home for the next seven months. She was diagnosed with stage three leukemia the summer of her freshman year. I have always been a big believer in “everything happens for a reason”, but I couldn 't fathom the thought of possibly having a funeral for my fifteen year old cousin. Everything seemed to be leaving; the color in her skin, her curly brown locks, but never the beam of positivity in her deep green eyes.
The onset of an unexpected illness my family brought upon a tough time in my family, and I was unsure of how to act, what to say, and what to tell others. After reading Unbroken, I felt that if Zamperini could survive years of torture, I could survive a seemingly small family emergency. The ability to relate Zamperini’s own story of resilience in a horrible situation inspired me to do the same in my own
My mom at this time was already freaking out and in tears. We rushed my sister to the hospital and found out that, the influenza she had for about a week now, was strongly attacking her immune system, causing her muscles to weaken. That night was the first time I slept at a hospital; my mom and I were by my sister’s side as she was flat on a hospital bed, plugged
Do you ever remember that one busy week in your life? The one that unravels you like a cheap sweater that only lasted five days? It was a mellow Monday morning, around August. I woke up thinking about what to do that day, there was nothing to do. I layed in bed despondently, exactly like a very sick patient.
As I volunteered and continued to read, I began to see the kids I played with differently. I didn’t just see them for their disease or complications, but I saw their heart, and the joy they felt just by doing simple things. I started to imagine their families and wondered what they might be going through, having a child live in a hospital. I kept remembering how confused and misled the Lacks’ family was with the health care system, and even though, I’m not a doctor, I hoped the best for the patient’s well-being and their
January 11, 2013, I wake up to yelling, prayers, and crying. I walked into the kitchen where all the noises were coming from and I found my mother on the floor crying, talking on the phone with my godmother. My father was there by her side, trying hard not to cry while supporting his wife. I didn’t know what was happening, this was the first time I’ve seen my mom so vulnerable and broken. My parents didn’t tell me anything other than my grandmother was in critical condition at the hospital, but with god's help she would overcome this hard time.
“Go back to your country.” Those five injurious words were tormenting enough to make me wonder if I was different, if being “foreign” felt different. The answer was yes. Hearing those words made me feel like an outcast. While growing up in the Democratic Republic of the Congo, I was surrounded by lovely parents, siblings and friends who looked out for me.
It was just a normal afternoon in the life of Kim Roemig, a Cardiology Nurse in Cedar Rapids, when one of her final patients of the day came in. Just as they were waiting to get his medicine, something didn’t feel right. Kim got this instinct that there was something wrong. This man had a heart attack just as the door closed to the Emergency Room, where she pushed him because she knew that something felt different. If it hadn’t have been for Kim, this man would not be with us right now.
Waking up Amy felt the discomfort of pressure in her throat. Her groggy mind trying to remember what had happened, a flash of a memory -almost dreamlike- skated across her mind. Tires sliding across wet asphalt, the rush of the dense green forest racing by in a disorienting display, the ear piercing, stomach churning sound of metal on metal. Her eyes snapped open taking in her surroundings, the EKG machine giving a sound to her erratic racing heart. The room looked like your typical hospital room and even had the terrible sterile smell.
One Saturday morning, I woke up at like 8am to the sound of my sister eating some chips or something. She usually likes to bother me in the morning, so I was surprised that she was doing something else. I just tried to ignore it and fall back asleep, but i couldn’t, so that’s when I got up to use the bathroom. I heard my sister finishing up her snack and getting another one. While I was in the bathroom, I heard a ton of crinkling and grunting, like my sister was lifting something up.
In bed at night, I heard my sister Madison wake quarter till midnight to rush to the bathroom. What I thought was a casual bathroom break was in reality her illness taking over our lives. I was at the fragile age of twelve when I finally realized what was happening. My sister Madison was starving herself to death and every night, like clock work, would go to the bathroom to gag herself until she threw up what little food she had left in her system. Sharing a room with her, I had a front row seat to the agonizing experience.
A memoir of a childhood lost to multiple mysteries illnesses , Julie Gregory tells us about the unseen abuse she endured as a young child and how it affected her into her adult years. Now as an adult Julie reminisces on her dysfunctional family, from her schizophrenic father to her low key mentally ill mother. From a young age Julie Gregory was continually tested for a sickness that was non existent, made up in the mind of her mother she had “suffered” from many different illnesses including a heart condition. Her childhood in Ohio consisted of doctor visits, x-rays, medication, and operations all of which were unneeded. Only when Julie was an adult did she realize that the person who was sick was not her
Though she was alive her injury was permanent. One day, one nurse came to her ward and gave everyone some straws. The nurse told them to thread the pipes together and to be connected with each other. That moment was the deepest enrichment time for everyone. When she came at home she became upset about her body and future life but something came at her mind.
Then she had replied with “ hurry up and eat your breakfast we have to take you to your last appointment ”. I remembered that i had therapy but i didn't want to go i just want to forget about what had happened. I deeply sighed and ate then went upstairs and changed. Then when i had finished i walked downstairs when i had seen my sister on the phone , she was sad and stressed then i