Personal Narrative

On 10/02/2017 at 0017 hours, units were dispatched to 627 Central Ave for a report of a Domestic involving a knife. I responded at emergency speed, priority one. Upon my arrival, I located the accused female in the bathroom.

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

Upon arrival, I observed medical staff standing inside the hallway of the peep area, trying to get this patient Jabri Ward to go in his room. This subject was refusing.

Generations and generations of my family have been Christians who followed Christ; so I grew up going to church and serving the Lord. I loved school, learning, and the Lord. Those were my three passions growing up. I did exceptionally well every year of school. I received A’s and a 4.0 GPA throughout all my school years. By my freshman year of high school I was ahead credits and on the road to graduating early. Then a turn of events happened. I met a boy; who became my boyfriend. We were happy and in love. Although my family was against it, they permitted me to move in with his family because of our persistency. His family was perfect in my eyes; after all his parents were still married and mine were not. Even though I had two exceptional

The lighting was bright in the facility, with natural sunlight coming in through the windows. Across from the nurses station there were patient lockers that consisted of items that the patients were not able to keep in their room. The main area for the patients consisted of about two to three tables with chairs, as well as, love seats and chairs for seating. Some tables had puzzles laying for the patient’s to do during an open time in their schedule. The noise level was moderate to low for most of the time. At times the volume would increase due to the several different disciplines of health care professionals collaborating together. The patients kept the noise volume down while in the main seating area, although, at times the pediatric floor would get loud when several patients were surrounded together. There was not a distinctive smell noted at the facility, but it did not seem to smell like the hand alcohol as much as the main Rapid City Regional hospital. There was also a fenced outdoor area that allowed the pediatric patients to spend time playing volleyball and basketball. Staff consisted of two to three nurses, two techs on the pediatric floor, and a couple more additional patient technicians on the adult third floor. Psychiatrists were also in the area at times. There would be either two or three nursing students on each

Oddly enough, hospitals are designed to feel tranquil and 'serene.'Ironically, the light shade of green and blue on the walls gives it that familiar to most funeral home. Its bleak institutional tile floor and the large heavy metal doors with a small frame of square window, just enough for one to peep through the inside of a private room. They are engineered to open silently without slamming made it seem morgue like. Every floor had their own reception and nurse stations, the private and semi private rooms looked identical to eachother except that the semi private rooms are separated by a curtain. One thing they had in common is that they all had waiting areas. Each room had patients, while each waiting rooms had people waiting in it.

The area that absolutely does not escape attention is the med line. A row of chairs line the wall diagonal from the window to the med room. Each evening, clients sit in the chairs at the specified time and wait. It is consistently and predictably stress provoking. They wait, side by side, for their turn to receive their medications. By this time of day emotions have escalated and patience has been spent for some, such as a man recently observed on the floor. Each minute that passed was like the rotation of a wind up arm for a Jack in the box. As he moved from one seat to the next one closer to the window his expressions and mutterings grew angrier. Tighter and tighter he was wound, just waiting to pop. Once he finally reached the window, he berated the nurse for her slowness and incompetence. The interaction was not therapeutic and no one’s self-esteem was enhanced in that moment. His escalation was visible for anyone who chose to look but it seemed as though no one noticed or saw it as a potential issue. It was simply another display of an all too common episode, when it becomes clear that a person “belongs” here.

The next room should have been, but was not, outfitted like a hospital room. I held my breath and listened, in awe, to deep laboured breathing fill the cramped space. All alone, on a tiny cot in the corner, the patient looked abandoned like an afterthought. Skin-coloured lumps, of differing shapes and sizes, smothered the patient's face and body wiping out any evidence identifying age or gender. The guide explained that the lumps were also inside every organ. She offhandedly, remarked, "This woman is 20 years old and will die sometime today." Horrified, I whispered, "Please don't talk like that in front of her." The guide shook her head and said, "It doesn't really matter. She can't hear us and even if she could, she wouldn't understand.”

They are confined to their plain white rooms behind a cell of “contact precautions” and their prescribed persona as a patient. Many of these individuals mindlessly stare into their television screens as the machines they are hooked to flash invariably, and their nurses rotely jot notes into their computer systems without so much as a genuine word.

As the observation begins the family sat in the waiting room quietly. The husband and wife converse in low tones. The young girl keenly observes the hospital environment, often

The parking lot was covered with puddles from the lingering rain drops and the smell of wet concrete was dominant in the outside aroma as both Rhonda and her husband came near the entrance of the white colored hospital with countless amounts of square windows. After the quick thirty second walk to the hospital from their car passing many evergreen colored trees, Rhonda and her husband approached the main hospital sliding doors which swished open as they came near letting all of the chilled Seattle air flood lobby. After the hospital doors closed shut, Rhonda released her grip from her husband’s hand and wobbled over to the check-in desk where they both were greeted by a female receptionist in her mid-thirties with long brown hair pulled back into a tight ponytail with deep brown eyes. “Hello! How may I help you today?”, the nurse asked in an upbeat manner. “Hi! My name is Rhonda Crane and I am here to check into my appointment with Dr.Harvey at 9 o’clock who will be delivering my baby. I received a phone call from the nurse this morning and she told me that Dr.Harvey requested that I come in today to have my baby

This room smelt of a multitude of perfumes mixed with coffee, and employees chitchatting echoed across the lobby. I stood in the entrance for a quick second, anxious that this was not the right place. Taking a step forward, I could feel the tightness of my expensive loafers around my feet, and the itchiness of my button-up around my torso. As I examined the room, I noticed a chair near the window in an empty corner. This seemed like a decent spot to wait. The chair itself was a terribly ugly green, similar to the Starbucks symbol. Its plushness sucked you in when you sat; getting out of it was a hassle. As I was sitting, I felt like I could not breathe. Everything felt so stiff: my throat, my appendages, my clothes, my mind. Sweat was seeping through my pores, and all I could think was, “Not now, anxiety, not now.” I could hear someone shouting “Samantha!” in a high-pitch tone at the opposite side of the lobby, which stopped my mind from racing. I was not certain that the shout was directed toward me, but I wandered over that way. The woman shouting must have been Louise, who was coordinating my whole job shadow. I met up with her, and she led me to the multitude of elevators that operated in Maine Medical Center. There were people everywhere-nurses, kitchen staff, doctors, visitors, and others I could not label. When the elevator arrived, Louise and I crammed in with what felt

I overheard my owner that I am having visitors from Texas coming. I hope they have warm clothes on because it is sunny with a lot of snow here in Minnesota. I think they are coming here for my birthday, I turned 8 today. “BAM!” I think that was a car door. They are here!! “What's his name?” I heard someone ask. It was a little girl, she has blonde hair. “ His name is Teddy.” my owner said as she opened the door to my stable. My owner starts to saddle me up. I thought it was a birthday party not ride time. She takes me out to the indoor field. The little girl gets on me and my owner pulls me around the field. I think she is teaching the little kids how to rid a horse.The little girl was first she had to use a step stool to get on me because I am a big horse. I heard the little girl say “I am so glad it is winter break.” After the little girl got off she started to pet me. “I love his black spots with his white fur.” I start to walk around and a lot of wind comes in and it is really cold.

Unfortunately, the escape to sleep wouldn’t come, and the quietness grew almost unbearable with the faint sounds of the heart monitors coming from beyond the brown doors. Often, the microphone on the other side of the intercom would click and seconds would pass before the tension could be alleviated by not hearing a nurse's voice. Finally someone in the waiting area came to the conclusion that the speaker must be getting bumped during the busyness of the intensive care unit.

Speckled tiles repeat in the room not only to make the room look barren but, to reduce stimulus in case the patient was hallucinating. Restraints are used preventing the patient from any type of harm. The patient being tied to the pipe shows how poor the institutions is that any room could be used. The reason for no binaries is the room itself is empty to help release stress the patient may have from situations regarding the patients or staff members. The rugged isolation of the rooms shows the importance of proper treatment and care.