A gentleman in his mid sixties was lying on the operating table. "You can rest outside if you want", said the cardiac surgeon while looking into my eyes. Preoccupied with the patient's picture before anesthesia, I struggled to swallow my worries and fulfill my promise to him to stay close throughout the operation. It was not much time until the potassium mixture was infused and the heart was sucked out of spirit. Over the next two hours, my mind and body were stretched to their limits. Despite being captivated by the precision with which the staff manipulated the grafts with the coronary arteries, I wasn't able to break the countless thoughts and apprehensions that riddled my head. As the blood was re-pumped into the heart, the flat line on
When we arrived after lunch, I was fueled on a pack of Mentos and a Poptart. I felt invincible and ready to take on the world. Unfortunately, when we entered the lab my mood slightly wavered when the smell made my stomach turn. However, simply deciding that positive thoughts attract positive outcomes, I pushed any doubts of the trip not being as great as I thought it would be out of my head. Once I let go of my worries I was having a great time. We were beginning to look at the chordae tendinae of the heart when my vision began to become black around the edges. Even so, I had no time to ponder this as I was so focused on the cadaver and maintaining my positivity.
Most of your posting was geared towards something I mentioned in mine, and I couldn’t agree more. How exactly do we combat the nature of warfare used against us for the last 13 years? How do we counter the ruthless tactics? Using women and children as shields and weapons themselves, seeking shelter in mosques, suicidal tactics and IEDs? Up-armored vehicles and better equipment will only go so far, and while we’ve made huge leaps in the realm of modernizing our force, I don’t believe it to be enough.
The quote Alice Walker once stated, "For in the end, freedom is a personal and lonely battle and one faces down fears of today so that those of tomorrow might be engaged" is a valuable saying and I totally relate with it. What freedom means to one may not be the same for another and has a personal meaning. Fear is an obstacle to freedom and progress. As clouds need to be blown away to reveal the sunlight, the cloud of fear should be torn apart to feel the warmth of freedom. This quote reminds me of a time when my fear of falling apart of my family and underestimating my academic potentials were inhibiting me from enjoying the freedom of stepping into the path of higher education until I decided to join Morgan State University, because no one was going to free me unless I free myself.
Remember, the perpetrator can create multiple diseases simultaneously to make the victim restless, angry, and loose cool. But I suffered through all these calmly; I know this is the only way to win. Winning is important because I take this as a game, and If I fail, then disappointed and angry. I am not expecting to win all the time, I am aware. Finally, I have to surrender. Now I am on the verge of defeat.
I am a proud San Francisco native, whose parents come from Mexico and Guatemala. Due to housing opportunities, my family moved from San Francisco to the Peninsula, where we eventually rented a house in South San Francisco. South San Francisco is what I consider to be home and my community. I grew up in a Mexican, single-parent household with my mother and brother. Alongside my mother, I witnessed and experienced at an early age sexism, racism, and poverty. My mother was discriminated against the majority of her life not only because she was a woman, but a Mexican woman at that. Many times, she was unable to get a decent, living-wage job and had to repeatedly settle for low-paying jobs as a house-cleaner, babysitter, and even selling water filters door-to-door. I remember playing with the newest toys only when my mom
What I am going to talk about is what one of my main personal narratives are. I feel that one of my main personal narratives would be adaptability. I feel that I am very adaptable as for everything I’ve been through. Throughout my life I have had to adapt to a lot of things.
One summer day a little girl got a pair of sunglasses and when she put it on and it started to rain on her, just her. When she moved the rain followed her. When she took it off it didn’t rain anymore. She tried to do normal stuff like eat ice cream, go to a birthday party and, have fun. Everytime she put her sunglass on it would destroy. Later that day after every time she put her sunglass on it started a storm. Everyone was running away for her but, finally she took them off for good. As the little girl walked she saw a bigger girl than her with a empty pool, sitting and doing nothing. The little girl went over to her and she put her sunglass on and the big girl’s pool started to fill up. She thanked the girl with the sunglass and jumped
In contrary to the “traditional” narrative, my aspirations of being a future healthcare provider did not start during childhood. I remember at the tender age of seven and bearing witness to the severe pain that radiated throughout my father’s body due to the movement of kidney stones. That experience, now looking back, instilled a sense of fear in me that lead to the avoidance of any career exploration or opportunity related to healthcare. It was not until college after better comprehending the healthcare system and learning about its inner workings that I began to develop my passion around social change and creating more equitable outcomes in terms of effective patient care and practices. Although, I am unsure as to what role and or, the function
What causes laughs, the place you get stuffed, and involves sleeping? If you guessed a New Year’s party and/or sleepover then you guessed right. When it was time to leave my house, I was told to take soda and chips so I brought chips and soda.
I am the only senior in my high school that is sad about graduation. Ever since I was a child the first day of school was like Christmas to me. There was something so appealing about the smell of the new classroom the shine of the new desks, new people- a fresh start. You could almost feel the knowledge; the new vibrating in the atmosphere. That was the best feeling in the world. I was born with a hungry mind, constantly craving that knowledge, devouring it up like a raging forest fire. The thought of that journey ending devastates me, the enlightenment and moreover, the extinguishing of that wildfire in my mind. Without that flow of learning, I feared the oceans of intellect in my mind would cease to a trickle or worse, dry up completely.
After we finish the main course and a few more drinks I test the remote again, I have lost count of where I am in the pattern, Kathy is not saying anything but has a pleasured look on her face, so it must be still working.
So it all starts on a typical Friday morning while waiting in line to get food from the school cafeteria. During the process of picking up my tray, I had a sudden rush of anxiety from the fact that I had not studied my spelling words the night before. With this epiphany, I started coming up with possible solutions. While brainstorming, I received my food and sat down with my friends. The first idea to come to my mind was to study for my test while eating, but I soon realized neither my friends or myself had the words. My second idea was to go to class grab my words then ask my teacher if I could go to the restroom, but Ms. Elrod already had already taken us to the bathroom before breakfast. My third idea was to fake either an injury or illness, but I hated going
When I was about 6 years old, I worried about what glittery shirt I would wear the next day to school. I worried about whether my 100 pack of Crayola colored pencils were sharpened. I was especially concerned about if my mom put a note in my lunch like the other moms did for their kids or not. She never did. When I turned 7 years old my priorities changed. My parents separated and I continued to live with my mother while my father left to start a new family somewhere else. I didn't even think about glitter anymore. Was this whole situation all my fault? Did I tear them apart? I was a pretty high maintenance child. I wined a lot and wanted to constantly to have their attention so I saw how I could be perceived as annoying. I didn't throw temper tantrums in public or called my mom mean names like
When I was seven years old, I decided to run away. My parents took away my Barbie Dreamhouse after an incident at school (which totally wasn’t my fault) landed me with a visit to the principal’s office. My bag was packed, complete with snacks and my beanie baby collection, but before I could leave the house I heard one thing that stopped me in my tracks: the sound of my mom crying. When I heard her tears over my trouble in school, bills, and my brother’s inconsistent punctuality, I suddenly didn’t want to leave anymore. I realized that I loved my family, and that I never wanted to be the reason they cried. Ever.
As I dragged my exhausted body back to my car after a long week of finals, rigorous projects, and perfected presentations, my mind continued to spin with worries. “Did I meet all my deadlines, remember to fix my bibliography, email professor Beall about the Physics Club, and call Mr. Muscarella about a letter of recommendation?” All of these questions had run through my head during the past week leaving me with a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. My anxiety had built up gradually throughout the semester and I began to feel like an automaton as I moved from morning practices to school to work and finally home where I attempted to complete all my assignments. But as I drove out of the school parking lot, I felt like I could