Angela Hundley And Her Family Vacation In The Dominican Republic

The parents came out of Grandma’s room by one by one, bags under their eyes, makeup running down their face, and bright red noses. By that time, I could almost predict what happened. As my mom and dad approached us with their heads down, I prepared myself to hear exactly what I never wanted to hear. “The doctors are turning off the life support machine. She isn’t suffering anymore, and she will be looking over every one of you guys. She said she loves you all so much,” Mom told us while my dad didn’t hide his tears back.

he AIDS hospice reeked from disease and neglect. On my first day there, after an hour of "training," I met Paul, a tall, emaciated, forty-year-old AIDS victim who was recovering from a stroke that had severely affected his speech. I took him to General Hospital for a long-overdue appointment. It had been weeks since he had been outside. After waiting for two and a half hours, he was called in and then needed to wait another two hours for his prescription. Hungry, I suggested we go and get some lunch. At first Paul resisted; he didn’t want to accept the lunch offer. Estranged from his family and seemingly ignored by his friends, he wasn’t used to anyone being kind to him — even though I was only talking about a Big Mac. When it arrived, Paul took his first bite. Suddenly, his face lit up with the biggest, most radiant smile. He was on top of the world because somebody bought him a hamburger. Amazing. So little bought so much. While elated that I had literally made Paul’s day, the neglect and emotional isolation from which he suffered disgusted me. This was a harsh side of medicine I had not seen before. Right then and there, I wondered, "Do I really want to go into medicine?"

We were sitting around the dining room table praying before our meal, as we always do, but this time we each thanked God for all the things he had blessed us with. We made our way around the table expressing our gratitude and thanksgiving, but when we reached grandma’s seat she paused for a moment. She then passionately thanked the Lord for her life, her children, and

Five days had passed this time since anyone had heard from my mother. I remember praying to God to protect her from harm and for me to find her. The next day she showed up, but not in the way we had hoped. One morning as I was getting ready for school my sophomore year in high school, my phone rang to the voice of my stepfather. My stepfather had told me he heard a call come over the dispatch scanner at his work and my mother’s name was mentioned. The sheriff had informed my stepfather that my mother had been involved in an accident. My stepfather asked me to go to the emergency room and see what condition my mother was in because he lived a half hour away from the hospital. When I arrived at the hospital I found my mother cut out of her clothes, covered in her own urine, massive amounts of blood all over her body, and lying lifeless on life support on the table. At this point, no one knew whether my mother would be okay. My mother had bleeding on the brain as well as a tear in her shoulder, a shattered face, and a chest tube draining fluid from her lung which had collapsed. All I could do was pray! My mother’s life was in God’s hands now. Three days later she woke

In the autumn of 2013 my beloved grandmother suffered from many medical complications. After discovering esophageal cancer, surgery to remove it caused a tear in her esophagus, which led to numerous health hazards. As a result, the cancer spread throughout my grandmother’s bloodstream and it was impossible to maintain her health. By October of the same year, she fought to maintain her optimistic personality that I admired so dearly as a child. There was nothing more the doctor’s could do and while she wasn’t able to speak clearly, she understood the circumstances completely. As my mother asked her if she was ready to rest she pointed up to the heavens with her eyes closed. As we said our goodbyes she was given morphine until she was no longer with us. To force my grandmother to suffer and endlessly wait for healing would have been selfish of us. It is hard for those of us who are healthy to consider death as a logical option in crucial situations. While it is a difficult concept to grasp, in certain circumstances it is the better

“I am petrified. I feel as if God has abandoned me. I just sat there and watched, quietly, because I had no idea what to do. As if these kind of things are normal for a 10 year old boy to witness. Everyone tells me that “it wasn’t your fault” or that “there was nothing you could have done.” I think I believe them… but the haunting images of my 16 year old brother being beaten to death tell me otherwise. The memories tell me I should have done something to save him. But I didn’t. Not a day goes by that I don’t think about what happened to my best friend and my brother.”

I know Ms. Diaz is scheduled to attend orientation this Friday, 8/28, but Wanda is on vacation this Friday. and is expected to return the week of 9/9, therefore she will not be able to process Ms. Diaz’s fingerprints upon her return. To assure she is cleared by her start date, 9/21/15, would it be possible for Ms. Diaz to come in today or tomorrow to meet with Wanda.

She said, “You know; I still dream about her. But now when I dream about her, she’s standing there with her arms outstretched telling me everything is ok.” The next day a woman was brought in and she heard about me. She called me to the corner of the room and said, ”I don’t want anyone to hear what I have to say because I don’t want them to think I’m crazy. There are demons in our house and they make the walls bleed. My mother is in a wheel chair and I try to tell her, but she won’t listen to me. They put something in me and I won’t stop bleeding.” Well, I prayed for her, I rebuked all the demons from her, her home, and I prayed for God to open her mom’s ears so she will listen to what her daughter has to say. The next day she came up to me (all bubbly) and said “Guess what, I just came from the nurse, she gave me something to stop the bleeding. I just got off the phone with my mom and she’s ready to hear what I have to say.” It wasn’t until that moment when I noticed how bright and beautiful she shined, where as the day before she was ugly like a dark shadow or a

I recently had a problem with your company while I was at the airport with my husband. Your service is great but I would like a refund for the unnecessary expenses.

Today is her, now seven year old, grandson’s birthday party. She is always overjoyed to see him and she loves to watch him play sports, but she misses the day when she can play catch with him in the side hard with the wind blowing in her hair. As they were walking up to the party she had to stop half way because of exhaustion. She looked up to her husband and said, ”I need to rest.’’ At this point she knew she was dying and it was getting more and more painful. She looked up and saw her grandson running around with his friends with grass stains all over his clothes and smiled up at her husband. Later that evening, sitting in the living room, she decided to have a talk with her husband about if she should go ahead and ask for the

I was lost. As I walked through the tall, bare hallways of the hospital, I noticed the scared, yet brave children struggling with the fight against cancer. Despite all they were going through, they still managed to send a smile my way. For once, I viewed the world from a perspective outside of my own and realized there are people dealing with the most unimaginable and complicated things. There was an unbearable discomfort in my stomach with the thought of these children being so powerless to change what they were going through. Suddenly, I felt someone approaching me; I could sense the empathy of the unfamiliar face in the short white coat looking through the same glass window as I was.

If it was not for that hard time, Mrs. Hewitt may never have reached the same impact on my life, for it was something I said during this time that changed what she thought of me. I told her that I would pray for the man that had the brown candy. Those words spoken to her meant more to her than the world. How a little four year old would care enough to pray for her husband encouraged her greatly.

As graduation approaches we are all faced with our plans for the next step in our lives. Right now, I plan to attend the University of Evansville in the fall to study Nursing and minor in Spanish. While at UE I plan to study abroad during the first semester of my senior year in England. I am especially looking forward to this opportunity because while in England I will be able to travel extensively throughout Europe while also continuing my education. I also plan to travel to a Spanish speaking country, most likely the Dominican Republic. This is something that I am both looking forward to and nervous for because this will be a very cultural trip that will also presents it challenges as far as the language barrier that will allow me to grow.

I remember the day my mother found out that we were coming to America. She started singing, crying, and dancing. Unfortunately, my mother’s younger sister could not come with us, and she stayed in Liberia. When we finally came to America, few years went by and my mother met my stepdad. She got pregnant and had our little sister name Mimi, but not too long after, my mother was diagnosed with having a brain tumor. She had to undergo a surgery, and I remember asking God, to please not to take my mother's life too. During the period of her surgical procedures, it felt like the longest time in my life, waiting to see what the results would be. Finally, we got our answer; she survived. She is healthy and alive but not a day goes by without me worrying about

She was the only one that attended her mother but it was difficult for her since her job occupied most of her time and she had her own family to care for. Her two sisters spent their time roaming around the town, even though one of them had a newborn five days before we arrived, they'd stay out late without worrying about how their mother might be. Sunday, July 19th at seven in the afternoon my aunt passed away. They didn’t notify us until eleven when my Aunt Christi came to our house crying and told my parents. Afterwards at midnight they went to my grandparents house to tell them and made sure to notify all of my uncles in the United States. Those that could decided to leave the next few days to arrive for her funeral and we left the next day with some of my aunts. During her funeral they carried her to church with a mariachi band trailing behind singing some of the saddest songs I’ve ever heard. After her mass, they carried her to the cemetery that was across the street from her home with the mariachi band behind. There were so many flowers and it didn’t surprise me because my aunt was a deeply loved person. My mom said it was, “ One of the most beautiful and colorful arrangements.” That day her children cried, they were on their knees weeping from guilt and sorrow saying they were sorry over and over again. But for what cause? Wasn’t it already too late, they should have been there for her when she needed them most.