Descriptive Essay About Taj Mahal

I continued to watch and listen, hearing doctors yelling for anodynes to relieve any sort of pain a patient was feeling, and residents running like animals trying to find something to ease the pain, like anesthesia. I began to get tired of all the crazy in the operating room, so I decided to head to the waiting room, where all sorts of people come trying to find answers to relieve their pain. Usually, the people who sit in the waiting room don’t have any sort of life threatening disease, even though they think they do. I sat on an open chair next to a table. On the table was a book titled, “The Book of Pathology”, with the subtitle “All You’ll Ever Need to Know About Disease”. I flipped through, and after about a minute of trying to read, I realized a book on the cause and effects of disease wasn’t the most interesting subject for a 15-year-old. I picked up a gossip magazine and decided that this was the more interesting choice of reading. Reading in awe of the breakup between Ben Affleck and Jennifer Garner, I began to hear someone talking. The only person near me was a man with a puppet on his hand that was sleeping. I went back to reading, thinking nothing of it. A minute later I heard someone talking but still, the only person next to me was the man with a

I had been cringing about day for so long. I was completely terrified to go into that room. As the door opened I was exposed to a cold draft and I could feel the dense air. The day I was told this needed to be done was horrifying, and now it’s actually happening. They rolled me over to a new bed and I looked around seeing doctors everywhere. There was a table that they rolled next to me and on it was things that I can’t even explain. They put a green mask on me with tubes going through both sides of it. They told me I’d get drowsy and all of the sudden I closed my eyes and it was happening. I was getting knee surgery.

‘I don’t want to lose her,’ I kept repeating in my head trying to look strong for her. I was trying to not show how scared I was, trying to stop bursting into tears the second I saw her in the state she was. She was so weak and there was nothing I could do to help, except stay out of the doctor’s way. There were nurses and doctors rushing around and giving me a strange look until realization dawned on them. I was at the hospital with my mom around 10 at night, in my pajamas, wondering what was going to happen to her and if she was going to be okay.

I fought the thoughts of not being able to breathe and allowing myself to have a panic attack. I have never been very religious, but it got to a point where counting didn’t help and the moment that destroyed my health replayed over and over. It was the few seconds prior to blacking out, to when I looked up at my rearview mirror and saw a truck coming right for me because he fell asleep. These thirty minutes of darkness symbolized the endless emotional and physical pain I had endured and my return to the darkness, which I cannot explain. So I prayed, hoping that even though I couldn’t remember all the verses, it would end the spinning and the torture. These moments of fear were more than claustrophobia; it was also a concoction of sadness. Sadness, that uncovered my weak and fragile human being self to the world because I had still not healed. As these thoughts deepened, the bed of the MRI machine began to move outward and I knew it was over. I hadn’t realized that my body was trembling until they took the thick white sheet off me. It revealed my shaking legs covered in Goosebumps and so, I pulled my fuzzy green socks up and with their help got off the bed. I wondered if that’s what it was like to live through a traumatic event or was it me being dramatic? Either way, I shut the door leaving the loud and terrible noises behind me. As I walked out, I could never see myself laying in that room again, unable to escape the endless

“Right this way,” the nurse ahead of me was prompting me to a brightly lit hall that was completely foreign to me. I couldn’t help but be terrified by the sights and sounds around me: people chattering, machines methodically beeping, gurneys rushing past. It was my first time in a hospital and my eyes frantically searched each room looking for any trace of my father. She stopped suddenly and I turned to the bed in front of me but I could not comprehend what I saw. At such a young age, I idolized my father; I had never seen him so vulnerable. Seeing him laying in a hospital bed unconscious, surrounded by wires and tubes was like witnessing Superman encounter kryptonite. My dad’s car accident not only made him a quadriplegic, but also crippled

I awoke with the sound of beeps in the distance. My eyes fluttered, eyelashes blocking my small spot of a view. In the corner, I could see my mom, her head in her hands, shaking slowly from tears. I gradually moved my head to the left. The room was bright, with white floors and bleached walls. There were multiple carts full of medical supplies right next to me. While scanning the room, I could hear my mother gasp and run out of the door. Moments later, a tall lanky guy walked into in the room. He was wearing scrubs with little stars and a light blue stethoscope was dangling from

Sitting in a hospital waiting room, alone, afraid; and waiting for the news; would she be ok? Would she even survive? My nerves were out of control; my heart was beating through my chest, you could literally see it thumping through my top. The beads of sweat racing down my forehead, as if I was in the middle of the Safari dessert. I have been an athlete my entire life, yet I have never felt so physically drained. I look around, my eyes opening, then closing; as if I am coming in and out of consciousness, then suddenly echoed words begin to ring around my ear drums….” Sir…...sir, can you hear me? Sir please, we need to know what happened. We need to know what happened to her. Maybe my motionless state showed my

My hospital bed was ice cold and the bleak and empty white walls depressed me as the uncomforting thought that I would have to stay here for maybe another week brought tears to my eyes. The usual and oppressive smell of disinfectant lingered in the room as I recalled that night in my head, trying to convince myself it wasn’t my fault, as I had done everyday since the accident. It was the day everything changed and my life was turned upside down. Forever.

I mouth , and my throat that was hurting like I had a flue, were dried out to a point where I was not able to squeeze out any sound out of myself whatsoever. A lady in a white uniform that I guessed was a nurse came into my room and poured some water into my mouth. My mouth absorbed all of the water that she gave me like a sponge. Shortly after, I got a salty/cheesy taste in my mouth. It was weird. My guess was that my mouth was covered with a thin envelope made out of dry blood. Moments later, my dad came into my room with a phone next to his ear and he was followed by a doctor. After drinking a little bit more water, and fulfilling every single hypertonic cell in my mouth and my trachea with water. My throat was moist enough for me to ask one thing that bothered me the most at that moment. “What happened to me?”. To be completely honest with you, the story that my Mom told me was quite funny to me, unlike the consequences. Basically I decided to climb a tree and when I was 6-7 feet above the ground, the stick that I was holding on to, broke, and that caused me to fall down and land neck first on a big rock. As I said the consequences were not so exciting. That emergency landing that I performed that day caused multiple fractures in my upper vertebrates and a broken rib that jammed one

I just went in for a cleaning, all I wanted was for my dentist to check for any cavities and tell me everything was in perfect condition. I don’t understand how I managed to wake up in the middle of a siege. The last thing I remember was Dr. Goldstein saying to me “Well Andre, it looks like you have a few cavities, I’m going to use some anaesthesia, just in case you don't respond to the pain medication again. Is that alright?” I did feel unsure about his decision, I couldn't understand why I would need anaesthesia during a cleaning, but I let him do his job. Dizziness soon followed, before I woke up in a gloomy room with the door barricaded. The only light in the room was coming from a TV showing the news. As I got off the dental chair, I asked Mr Goldstein “What happened here? Why is the door barricaded with furniture?”

It was four years ago on the 17th of December, everything seemed like a normal day. I was prepping for finals and eating snacks in the study room with friends when my neck and face turned bright pink and blotchy, and breathing became difficult for me. I remember I had a history final later that day, but was rushed down to the nurse’s office and ultimately had to reschedule that test. Since I had eaten a few different items, we were unable to determine what the real problem was. Two weeks later at volleyball practice, I sat on the side, pink, pale and unable to catch my breathe. My mom had decided that this was enough of not knowing, so she took me to get allergy tested. I sat there at Trinity waiting for a family friend to take vials of blood for the samples. They ultimately gave me a long list of things I was allergic to, and we compared that to what I had to eat the day I was at school studying for finals; and what I had eaten before practice, this was the day I found out I could no longer have any Reese’s trees, or any Reese’s eggs anymore, I am allergic to peanuts.

The nurse came in and I tried to get up. At that moment I realized, I actually realized that I was paralysed. Tears started filling my eyes, but I blinked them back. I whispered yes, and the nurse came near. As she lifted me into my wheelchair with the help of another nurse. We passed the office my mom and dad were in on the way to meet the personal trainer. Hearing their voices made me have hope, and then then I started sobbing. Through the door the doctor had just informed my parents that there was an eighty percent chance I might not walk ever

Baseball season was on the horizon and I needed to replace my bag so we drove to Academy. On the way to Academy I felt really tired but who doesn't when their sick. I started to walk into Academy and made it fifteen yards before everything went dark. I woke up being rushed into the ER hearing a lot of unfamiliar voices and the feeling of blood coming out of the side of my head. I was told that I had a seizure, shortly after that a familiar voice came in it was my grandma and behind her my mom and dad. I a matter of hours I had the situation explained and 8 staples in my head. Once moved to a regular room I was able to wash the blood out of my hair and take a shower.

I wasn’t a healthy child. Some of my earliest memories are of my frequent visits to the doctor for a plethora of reasons, from ear infections to asthma to chickenpox, it seems like I dealt with it all as a little boy. I remember some of my early health problems vividly, but I also remember connecting the doctor with feeling better. At this young age I was also confronted with the threat of the death of my father. Mom picked us up early from school one day, and I could see a look of fear on her face as she sped uncharacteristically fast away. “Mom, where are we going?”, I asked. “Your dad is in the hospital, he’s very sick. We are going to see him.”, she replied, choking on her words speaking to her two young children. “WHAT’S WRONG!?”, my

Before we left, we said “goodbye” again to our family and left. As my mom drove, I was getting sleepy, but my mom told me that I should stay awake just in case. We later got to the hospital, where we got confused where to go, but eventually found out where the entrance was. We all got out of the car and headed towards the automatic doors, but when I walked in, it was pretty barren and cold. My mom headed to the counter to check us in while my siblings and I sat down. The kind lady working behind the counter gave my mom, sister, and I a yellow wristband, and told us to sit