My Experience At The United States

One of the most terrifying experience began on January 2014. When my aunt was rushed to the hospital. For the past years, she has been suffering from chronic illness that has had a negative impact on our family. Due to her immigration status, my aunt has struggled to gain the necessary resources to obtain a health care plan. On several occasions, my aunt has stopped purchasing her medication because of the high cost. This has led my aunt to suffer from stress, depression and anxiety, recently she had to seek professional help because her depression was affecting her personal life. Ever Since my aunt was hospitalized, she has struggled to get back to her regular routine, this caused her to change her diet, attitude and work less hours.

When moving to a new place, the first thoughts that comes to mind, "Moving to a different school? Meeting new people?" The terrifying thoughts coursed through my mind causing me to freeze in cold sweat thinking of all the horrible things to come with this new chapter of my life. Regardless, I am a fearless adventurer ready to take one a whole new exciting journey to exotic places, experiencing new cultures, meeting different people.

It can be very challenging to move away from the country you grew up in. Recalling all those moments of laughter, excitement, and adventure can only make one more and more depressed. I was born in Port-Au -Prince, which is the capital of Haiti and raised in Gonaives. I spend most of my early childhood in Haiti. I only knew my native language, food, music, and history. I was only familiar with my native holidays and celebration. Therefore, the day my mother came to me and told me I had been awarded my resident card, and we had to move to America. My life changed forever.

It was already dark and we were worn out. My sister-in-law was so enervated that she fainted, but no one was concerned; everyone kept walking. My mother implored the coyote to help us and to not leave us. The coyote stopped and allowed everyone to rest; meanwhile, my sister-in-law recovered. We then kept walking for another three to four hours when we heard a helicopter. Everyone panic and started screaming “safety patrols!, safety patrols!”. The people threw themselves on the ground and pushed me to a cactus. The cactus thorns went profoundly into my skin, but I knew better than to make any noise. The helicopter revolved above us for about ten minutes and then left. We then kept walking thinking that, that was the worst that could

It happened when I was young. I was outside at my friend’s house sledding. We were taking a break when I got that phone call from my mom; she was crying. My sister was on her way to the emergency room. I started sprinting through the neighborhood towards my house. My dad was waiting with my brother in the car. My mom went with my sister in the ambulance. I was so scared that I was going to lose my sister. We got to the hospital and we were in the waiting room. It felt like days before we heard about her condition. My sister had pneumonia and mixed with her asthma she was having a hard time breathing. She had a severe attack and couldn’t breathe. If the crew from the ambulance didn’t show up the doctor said she wouldn’t have made it. I know

Paroxysmal Supraventricular Tachycardia, Diagnostic Code 427.0, I47.1 – “… found an independent association between PSVT and ischemic stroke.” [6] [similar effect to Atrial Fibrillation]

Driving to Long Beach with my family, I watched the trees and cars zoom past. Suddenly, as my heart began to pound throughout my whole body, I felt my chest and throat tighten and my muscles stiffen. My brain shut out my surroundings and focused on the panic setting in. Sweat dripped down my palms as I gripped the car handle so tightly my knuckles turned white. Disorientation followed and I was consumed by fear, transported to an empty, helpless space. I had passed the thin line that separated composure and panic. By the time we got to the apartment, I was relieved to have a change of surroundings as I stumbled out of the car. I was shaking when I got out and rushed inside the apartment to calm myself down.This was one of many more panic attacks

On one Friday afternoon in the summer of 2014, I was scheduled to report at the Population Management desk at Codman Square Health Center. I had finished tutoring some students and was on my way out of the library with a friend. I took the elevator with 2 other students from the 8th floor, which made the elevator feel a bit crowded. As we went downwards, the elevator doors lurched into each other. The elevator was malfunctioning at this point. A student pressed the Emergency Call button and the voice on the other end said "help is on the way". As minutes passed by, I noticed that my friend began to sweat profusely and being claustrophobic, he began to panic. I had never seen my friend in this condition and I was worried that he might pass out

My life was split between two distinct cultures during my childhood and adolescence. My family immigrated to the United States in the early eighties and moved back to Syria two years after I was born. I completed first and second grade in Syrian public schools before immigrating to the U.S. in 2001. Here, I was placed in English second language classes, which I completed in 9 months. I then continued my fourth grade education in regular classrooms. These two years exposed me to people of various cultures, ethnicities, and backgrounds, which cultivated my cultural awareness and shaped my identity. However, I was harassed several times because of my religion and ethnicity. A student once told me “go back to your country, we don’t want you here.” It had never occurred to me that I was perceived as a foreigner despite being a U.S. citizen.

My experience of moving to the USA included a couple of steps such as preparing, arriving, and adopting. Moving to America was one of the most thrilling and exciting experiences I have ever had in my life. It all started after I graduated from high school. I had always dreamed of going to abroad to study in a better school to be successful in life. My dad was leaving me hints here and there that he was going to send me America for school, but I was sure that it wasn’t going to happen because getting a student visa was tough back then. However, that summer when I saw that letter in my mail from the immigration department of USA for an interview, I was speechless.

On July 31st around 12:30am my parents, siblings, cousins, and aunt were driving home from watching two movies at a drive-in-movie theater. We had met up with my other cousins, aunt, and uncle so we could all spend time together while my aunt and other cousins were in Ohio. I had just fallen asleep five minutes away from home when I started seizing. That is when I heard my aunt yell “Call 911!” and my mom yell to my dad who was driving to pull over. Within a few moments I had stopped seizing. I later found out my mom had

I woke up. Everything around me was blurry, and dark. I was awfully hungry, and I had a tube in my arm. I had no idea what was going on. All of a sudden, an alarm was going off somewhere around me. My ears rang with loud, annoying sounds. A flurry of lights came on, one after another. A doctor rushed in.

I woke up to the most uncomfortable pain in my lower abdomen one morning. It felt like someone had their hands warped around my guts and where squeezing them as tightly as they could. That type of pain was something I was unfamiliar with. I was laying in my friends bed, thinking to myself what is going on. I was too shy to wake up my friend’s mom up. I thought maybe it was something I had eaten so I went to the restroom. As soon as I sat down and looked down I seen blood. For a second there I thought I had to be taken to the emergency room. I rushed home to tell my mom. I was almost certain I was dying right there in that moment.

It was a warm April Sunday morning, my family and I were headed to church. As usual, we were late, so we had to sit in the last rows of the temple. As the priest was giving the homily, we heard a loud noise coming from a few rows to our side. It was a man sitting a few feet away from us that had just collapsed. People of course started panicking, asking for help, a crowd started to form around the men. I can’t explain what exactly went through my head, a rush of thoughts and emotions. What I distinctly remember is a voice inside my head saying “help him, you can do it, you know how, help him”. I ran to where he was, asked my brother to dial 911, as I got near him, I started assessing for vital signs, taking in consideration my only previous health training was as medical assistant, I realized this man needed cardiopulmonary resuscitation (CPR), so I started with chest compressions. My hands were shaking, my heart racing, nevertheless I was sure of what I was doing. What felt like hours were only a few minutes, until paramedics came in and took over. I did not get the name of the person I helped save, what I did get was a “Thanks, God bless you” from the wife. After all the

I was laying on the ground at my favorite place to eat, blood gushing out of my head, tears running down my face. It felt like forever before someone helped me, like everything was moving in slow-motion. For that brief moment I completely lost my hearing. I was oblivious to what was around me yet I knew exactly what was going on. I was hurt but I felt no pain. I felt like nothing changed but the amount of panic on people’s faces.