An exciting trip with family is something that most families remember vividly. In this case, it was not the most exciting trip we have taken, but definitely one to remember. Being in the hospital had some interesting experiences I saw and felt.
Nevertheless, the hour and a half ridged drive up has never felt so long. My dad anxiously cruises from lane to lane. Perspiration runs through his hands, the air filled with nervous energy from him, my mom, and my sister, Tayler, as I bared my pain. I try not to show too much for the sake of my family. My stomach had taken over doing uncontrollable convulsions like an intense ab exercise nonstop. No one knew what was going wrong. Pulling up to the covered sliding glass entrance door to the emergency room, I slipped out of the car. Walking slowly, I went to the front desk. The tall blonde woman, with the look of sleep deprivation on her face, asked my mother in her soft voice questions about me. My mom, still shaking with nerves, answered them all completely for the receptionist. Standing there, a variety of emotions overwhelmed me. Right away, I was taken into a small glass room where a short, thin black haired woman took my vitals. She was in a hurry because there were patients coming in nonstop and had to keep everything flowing. After everything was checked, she escorted my family to the waiting area. Sitting side by side, I stared at the cream colored wall with indigo and soft ink birds on it to try to pass the time. Our phones
“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
Five years ago, my mother was rushed to the hospital for an aneurysm. For the next two weeks, my family and I sat huddled around her bed in the intensive-care unit, oscillating between panic, fear, uncertainty, and exhaustion.
I watched as my family said goodbye as a I lay in my hospital bed, breathing raspily. I told them that I loved them. I tried to reach out for my mother’s hand, but was stopped by the short slack of all the tubes and wires connected to me. She comes closer so she can hold my hand, so she can comfort me in my last moments.
The best trip I have ever been on would have to be our first family trip to Florida. I have been on many trips however it was the very first still a lot of my family has seen the ocean,or even left Tennessee. A eight day trip in a beautiful beach house surrounded by family gave us great memories and we go once a year ever since. My dream job would be doing anything that involves helping people I really enjoy having people leave happy. Maybe working in my own restaurant because I love too cook and food usually leave people smiling. There would be good food and Good music as well as kid friendly so, the entire family could enjoy themselves. I have a dog she is a Pomeranian name Skylar. She's only nine months old all black with curly hair. My
There was a strong pungent of disinfectants and rubbing alcohol as she was rushed into the lobby. Crying out her last breath to express her agonizing pain as she lied down on the cold gurney. The nurses in a light blue uniform quickly arrived as several doctors in long white gowns rushed to the scene. Her mother was by her side, holding her hands as tight as she could, as the nurses pushed the agitating gurney towards the automatic doors. Soon her visions blurred and as the world turned into a tint of pink and red. As her vision slowly darkened, she solely relied on the touch of her mother’s warm hand and her soothing voice. Notwithstanding the tight grip of her mother’s hands, they was soon torn apart. Fear took over her body as she cried even louder. The sudden yet rhythmic beep was the last memory she could recall. It was March 5th.
I went into the hospital room with my mother, got undressed, and changed into a hospital gown. A woman came into the room to put an IV into my arm, then I turned on the Food Network on the hospital TV. A few doctors came into the room, asking for my name, birthdate, and other questions for identification purposes. Later, my two aunts came into the room. A few minutes later, my surgeon walked in as well to tell me that she’d come back in about twenty minutes to wheel me away to the operating table. This made it even more surreal and made me even more anxious.
The hospital reeked of sadness, grief, and appalling hospital grub. My family and I sat in peace, trying to grasp the dreadful news the doctor had just shared. 2 weeks to prepare for what would forever be one of the hardest days of my life. I crumpled up the pamphlet immediately with tears streaming down my face. A billion questions flooded the mind of an 8 year old. Why would this happen to her? Why can’t they just make her better? What am I supposed to do without her?
The doctors could not save him. My heart ached, and I wanted to run away instead of facing the cruel reality that my dad was not going to walk out of this hospital today or ever again. I cried hopeless tears as my mom slowly carried me to the far corner of the hospital where my dad had been placed by doctors hours before. When we reached the doorway to his room, I froze with hatred and anger. I could not comprehend why the doctors had no power or ability to fix the situation. I felt helpless and did not want to go inside the room where my dad was being held captive by countless wires and machines. However, I crawled onto the foot of the bed and held my dad’s legs as he continued taking shallow breaths. Ultimately, that is where I remained until a nurse came in several hours later to confirm he had passed
As I took those few daunting steps from the elevator doors to through the white frosted doors of the Ear, Throat, Nose Surgical Ward, I thought to myself It’s time to grow up Emma! I remember stepping into a room about the size of a small classroom and going straight into a gross brownish-puke lumpy chair and sitting down on my everso shaking hands to conceal from both my mom and dad who stood up at the big front desk talking to middle age woman sitting behind it. I was only able to see the top half of her face, which reminded me of Wilson from Home Improvement. When they were done my parents came to sit down with me. My mom on my right and my dad next to her. After what felt like hours of waiting...and waiting...and waiting, a middle aged
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 immediately rushed to my parents room; no matter what age I seem to reach, mother always knows best. I abruptly shook my mom awake, explaining the situation in-between sharp breathes of pain and anxiety. With her being a nurse, she immediately began to make calls; pacing back and fourth in the background, I awaited my fate.
The room was swarming. My heart raced as I watched. I had lost track of myself until the orders of a nurse brought me back. “Jack, grab the crash cart!” she exclaimed while performing compressions. I sprinted to the nurse’s station, grabbed the crash cart, and sprinted back. I retook my position and continued to watch. The patient regained her pulse only to lose it again minutes later. After an additional fifteen minutes of compressions she was back. Relief flooded my body. At the time I didn’t feel anything other than futility, the adrenaline seemed to have numbed most of my thoughts. Later that night I kept replaying the entire scene in my head. I could vividly remember the family crying outside, the efficiency with which the physicians worked, and a strong feeling of helplessness I felt at the time, wanting to help, but being unable to do so was infuriating. I could not stop thinking about. About a week later I came to the conclusion that what I had witnessed was something beautiful. Everyone in that room was dedicated to saving this person’s life. This was their job, and it was nothing short of heroism. Even more heartening was the humanity of it all. Witnessing those physicians, having dedicated their lives to be there at that moment to save this person’s life was truly inspiring.
Spending quality time with family is one of my favorite childhood memories, whether it was spending time outdoors, playing ping pong, or watching a movie. My most meaningful family memory came from our vacation to Colorado back in 2004; yes, 2004. Although I don’t remember all of the events that transpired, I’m able to recall most of the memorable events that took place. It was a cool, misty morning in the Colorado Rocky Mountains, and I could distinctly hear the unmistakable elk calls that echoed through the mountains. The breeze gently scraped my face as I got into the car to begin the first day of our family vacation in Colorado. I could hear the car tires gently humming on the road during this cool, foggy, Colorado morning. As I looked past the lanky pine trees, glistening drops of dew formed on the tall grass, dancing with the wind. As we moved further down the road, I could see the tip of the sun barely begin to peek over the steep, snowy mountain peaks; however, the sun was soon covered by the misty Colorado clouds. This was it: our family vacation!
There are certain memories that we have that we can remember like they happened yesterday. Many of those memories that have special meaning to me were of family vacations when I was young growing up with my brothers and sisters. Family memories are important to many of us because they take us back to a time or place that was special. One particular family vacation I remember vividly, and it’s a story I have shared with my kids on many occasions. Over the 40 or more years since that memorable vacation, I still smile and think how lucky I was growing up with a mother and father that did everything to give their kids an unforgettable memory.
A few minutes before we landed at the airport, I looked at the screen in front of me and it showed ‘33°C’. It had been a year since I last experienced that kind of heat and I couldn’t bear it last time, so I wondered how I would cope with the heat this time. As the plane began to slow and turn into terminal, I could hear people around me start to get there belongings together so that they could get off the plane first. People returned the magazines to the rack on the back of the chair in front of them and I turned off my iPod and put it back in my bag. When I took my headphones out, I felt like I was back in the real world now as I had been concentrating on listening to music for hours. It seemed like time was going slower and slower