My Experience In My Life

Decent Essays
On the night of April 7, 1997, my seven-year-old body flew from the backseat of a Nissan Sentra and crashed through the front passenger window onto the roadway of Old Town, Staten Island. I woke up on a hospital stretcher in pain and perplexed. My eyes were filled with shattered glass. I had no mobility in either of my arms; my right arm was wrapped in gauze and plaster; and my left arm had an IV in it. Two days later I was informed of the full extent of my injuries. I shouted at my nurse, “But how will I eat, write, shower, and how will I use the bathroom? What about my hair? How will I put on my clothes? “You will learn how.” she said. Arriving home after two maddening weeks of not being able to take care of myself, I attempted to return to normalcy without my nurses at my bedside. Barely out of third grade, I was confronted with the biggest decision I would ever make in my life. Would I adapt to this physical change or let it plague me, and define me, for the rest of my life? I had to learn how to perform my daily functions using only my left hand as opposed to my right. Day and night, I worked on my poor penmanship. One of my biggest challenges was learning how to tie my shoes. I could have used Velcro or curly shoestrings, but I refused. I easily could have asked my mom or friends to tie my shoes. However, I did not want any assistance that would hinder me from regaining my independence. With the help of my mouth and left arm, I was able to tie my shoelaces. I was
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