Double Compound Accident

Everyone quickly turned their heads as soon as they heard the agonizing scream of pain. The scream was long and high pitched and it spread through the ears of everyone within distance. In confusion, they all ran in the direction of the scream, huddling around a blonde haired girl with her hands wrapped around her knee. There were oodles of whispers about what was happening, but nobody had a complete grasp on the situation. Dazed and dismayed, I was the girl in the purple leggings and everyone was staring at me wondering why I was lying in the sand screaming and crying. Soon, adults and doctors were hovering me asking questions that I just couldn’t answer. I wasn’t aware of how it happened, I only knew how excruciating my pain was. My kneecap was sticking out of the side of my right leg and due to that, I felt overwhelmed and panicked. My eyes couldn’t move from my knee despite how unbearable it was to lay my eyes on. I never imagined I would have knee problems again after already having 2 surgeries on my left knee. The feeling was so devastating, I have injured myself once again and the pain was not yet over.

My time in the hospital was such a haze, in what felt like a day or so a total of was 2 weeks had passed. Going home was a strange feeling since I had almost forgot what home was being gone so long from it. When the doctor had removed the wrapping around my head, it was like all the memory of the event had been released at once. The story of how my sister had dug her nail in my eye and subsequent reenactment. I never expected to have my sight be scared by such a close person and fro them to repeat their action twice. I was in my room that Thursday afternoon having just come back from school I was placing my backpack to the side when it happened.

They swarmed around me. The tears felt like fire. I heard worried, faint murmurs. “she's not going to make it”, and they're reassuring my crying, helpless parents, “she's going to be alright”. Even though I was so young, I thought that this was it. The fear. The pain. The sorrow. The memories still haunt me to this day.

When I saw my aunt and uncle walk into the waiting room, fresh tear stains streaked upon their cheeks, I knew. When my uncle opened his mouth to say something and nothing came out but a child like squeal, my heart was torn in half. When someone finally said the words ‘she’s gone’ to the family members that had just arrived, getting my extremities cut off of my body one by one would have most certainly hurt less. I shut down and sat in that too clean smelling hospital room, little by little people began to say their good-byes to each other and leave, while I just sat. My grandpa walked in and I looked up at the red neon clock on the wall to see that a hour had passed. Without saying a word, he motioned and walked with me out of the room to the end of the hallway where my sister and cousin were sitting. The corner where the four of us sat, you could look out the windows into a sea of city

The next thing I was inside my dad’s truck drinking Juicy Juice while my mom and grandma tried to get my knee to stop bleeding. When we got to the hospital in Birmingham, Alabama we ran into the Emergency Room entrance and the lady at the desk saw my knee. She immediately called a doctor into a room where he looked at my knee and removed what he could of metal and barbed wire. They carried me into another room and they wanted to put stitches

It was a hot, summer day at a beach resort, which contained hundreds of little houses, each one for a visiting family. After running around in the blazing sun, my friend and I stopped by his house for a quick beverage. Ready to keep going, we decided to hop over the veranda as it was a shorter exit. The veranda was in the back of the old, brown, one floored wooden house. The distance from the top of the veranda to the ground was no more than four feet, and jumping over it seemed like an easy task. After my friend hopped the veranda, it was my turn. However, on the way down, one of my feet slipped and I fell down… hard. As I looked over to my right, my right arm was completely broken. My friend looked perplexed when he saw what happened. The bones of my forearm formed a ninety degree angle and it looked like I had two elbows. I had to repeatedly tell him to run to my house and get my mother as fast as he could. For a while, I was clueless as to why I felt no pain; later I learned it was due to adrenaline. When my mother arrived, she remained calm and called the ambulance after asking if I felt alright. I expected her to yell at me and go berserk, but to my surprise, she looked composed as ever. However, years after the incident, I learned that she cried and shook on the inside. Nonetheless, she remained strong and assured me that everything would be

I was scared, scared to look down at whatever was going on down there. Jacob immediately pulls out his phone and dials 9-1-1. "What's your moms number," he says right after the paramedics are on their way. She rushes down and barely beats the paramedics there. As I lay there with my face in the boiling asphalt I can hear the paramedics pulling up. Their boots marched like soldiers as they approached me. They asked me several questions to make sure I didn't hit my head but i barely wanted to talk, I was stuck in shock. After they loaded me up on morphine they strapped me up and took me to the hospital in a helicopter. If I looked down at my feet I can see all the city lights as we flew over them but i could barely keep my head up because of all the medication. I remember laying in a room where they asked my parents questions and then slowly falling asleep until the next morning. I woke up and heard my parents talking to the doctor. They were having a good conversation while drinking their coffee I can hear the laughs. The doctor said, "he won't even need a cast for this one." " What do you mean?" Mom asked. "Well all he really needs are some rods and pins so we just need to perform some leg

I was sprinting as fast as i could to the ER for a “911” trauma. I walked into the room shouting, “What do we got?” over the frantic nurses, when i saw it. The perfect shard of glass spearing through this poor girl's heart. “This isn't a silent night anymore” I whispered to myself, rushing up to the operation room with her.

I could hear the heartbeat monitors and crying down the hallway and I could feel the nervousness throughout my body. My Father Ambrocio, was undergoing surgery on his back due to an injury on the job. The thought that anything could happen in the operation room was too much. We were in Long Beach California for three days of pure fear for my Father's life but inside, I knew, that this fear will not last forever.

I immediately stood up, felt weird, and started crying as I jogged across the field. I realized my head was bleeding because there was blood dripping onto my glasses. I felt ready to pass out. I didn’t think I could make it any further with being this nerve - explosive feeling because I did not know how big this wound, which means bruise was because no human can see their forehead so for this case I just kept whaling with a bunch of tiny breaths at once I finally made it to the healthcare room. The people there helped me wash and put an ice pack on my wound. There was a bit more traffic than usual so my mom took a few more minutes to get there than usual. Once she had arrived I started crying because she was finally here and my stress would be resolved. The second she saw me she took a moment to start to remember the wound without looking at it and then she told me that I would have stitches put in and I was worried for myself so I cried out,” I don’t want to get stitches!” over and over again but she stated that staples are hard pieces of tape and stitches are better. I got in the car and stopped crying and we drove for a

I was at my babysitter’s, situated on a prodigious cube playing Monkey In The Middle with a few friends who threw the ball from the ground. It was constantly streaming over our heads, when suddenly, the ball clobbered into my face, and before I knew what to do, I had landed on the dirt, my arm in excruciating pain. The only thing I felt like I could do was mewl. It was as if the only thing I even knew at that moment. I was taken back inside and the babysitter left to call my mother, and I was put onto a reclining chair, bawling my eyes out, and my friends surrounding me. Although I cannot remember exactly what they were doing, that isn’t important to my story. What was important is that I was in agony. It was unendurable...

My father and I willingly stayed at the hospital that night. Missing eight days of school within a span of three weeks, I continually struggled with a heavy sense of powerlessness, looking for ways to affect change in the situation. Many days I held her ashen hands, massaged her feet, and put ice packs on her forehead when her fever increased. I wanted to take care of her the way she had always done for me, but as a small twelve year old boy, I knew I could never come close and yet, I tried my

The echo of the ambulance resonated in my head while we were riding to the hospital. My mom was on the stretcher since she had the worse injury and my sister and I were sitting on the metal bench inside the ambulance. My sister was stifling her tears, sniffling and hiccupping from time to time to time with sharp breaths, and I was staring into space, letting the intenseness of the recent moment settle in while the EMT checked our vitals and asked us yes or no questions. We arrived at the hospital and they hastily brought us to a room with a hospital bed even smaller than a twin size with 4 chairs and my dad showed up minutes after, riding right behind the ambulance and came with us. My sister only had a little back pain, but no cuts, bruises, or anything irregular within her. There was a mirror inside and I when I stood in front of it, I saw on my face my dried up nosebleed, a large rounded cut under my eye from my broken glasses that were now lost in the grass of the accident, and tiny cuts everywhere that I now have scars from. I also had this sharp sore feeling when I pressed the area below my eye. It was bad, but not nearly as bad as what my mom had to experience. She had a fractured a rib and I knew she was in immense pain. Of course, my mom occupied the bed and while the doctor examined us, asking us questions in the most calm voice they could. I was attentive to what the doctor was saying and asking, but I was also dazed, getting lost in my

Pain demands to be felt, and on this day, it was definitely felt. My mom was very cautious and worried when it came to staying the night with my aunt, only because of the neighborhood they chose to live in. The neighborhood was very dangerous at night. It would not surprise people if gun shots go off at night. I thought I was safe because my uncle always locked the door at night, and he was very respected in the area. Little did I know, I was sleeping in the same house as a predator. My cousin was up around five in the morning because he was playing the play station, and the sound of basketball shoes and basketballs bouncing had woken me up, so I turned back around and went back to sleep. Looking back at it now, I wish I would not have woken after I had gone back to sleep, but I did. That Thursday morning, my aunt waved goodbye as she walked out the door heading to work. I was feeling kind of nervous because I had never been alone with my uncle before. I remember my aunt saying, "Uncle Travis will bring you to Glass Tax after TJ and Pinky left." I wasn't worried, so I went back to sleep. I finally woke up for the final time around nine thirty in the morning. Not only was I fixing to be alone with my thirty-one-year-old uncle, but I also did not have a phone to contact anyone, so I was using my aunts iPad.

I woke up the next day in the hospital. My parents and my friends were at my bedside. They were pale and tired and looked quiet. I must have really scared them. When my parents left, Jane came up to me. She started crying. “I’m sorry, Alex,” she wept. “I’m really sorry.”