Personal Narrative: Communicating With My Body

I have been progressing fairly well on my learning goals for semester 1, from the beginning of semester 1 until now from learning about anatomy to physiology and to hands on techniques. I cant believe my own self that in such little time that I have learnt so much. One of the things I have learned so far is the muscles origin and insertion following the bones of the body this allowed me to apply my knowledge on hands on experience such as palpation of the bones and muscles. Another thing I learned in this semester is from physiology class learning about the cardiovascular system and blood flow this allowed me to apply my knowledge from that into my clinical assessment for taking blood pressure and vitals for a patient. Overall I think my learning

I soon fell asleep and woke up to the sound of traffic and people yelling as if someone ate the last piece of pie on Thanksgiving. Being half sleep my eyes weren’t fully dilated so I couldn’t see but with one wipe and a closer look at the sign I see the words, “Lew Sterrett Justice Center”. We had arrived at the local jail of the Dallas County. As we walk to the entrance, I was so scared I grabbed papa hand hard as possible. We came to a huge black door with tinted windows so no one could see through. Papa pushed a big red button to the right of the door that mad a loud horn sound. Then the door slowly opened and revealed a room with a door, metal detector and two officers.

As we close out the 43rd game of the season, the Phillies drop to 15-28. As the pitching woes continue, it's tough to look on the bright side. It's understandable for the fans to be anxious, but it's all apart of the rebuild. I'm here to tell you to R-E-L-A-X. The team is still incredibly young and in the process of getting back to October. Maikel Franco is struggling a bit at the plate. Picking up the slack in the lineup is Tommy Joseph, who has been on absolute tear through the month of May. Cesar Hernandez has cooled off a bit but still playing some good ball. What can't I say about Aaron Altherr? He's everything you can ask for right now and then some. One thing you can look forward to is one of the most exciting

My name was announced. The silence in the room allowed me to hear the judges’ pens scratch through my concise, four- letter name. With my baggy blue button- down, and all black dress- pants on, I proceeded down the auditorium aisle and onto the stage. Even though the crowd consisted of only around 30 uninterested students who purposefully displayed their lack of care, I still felt a pressing audience. Turning to my public- speaking teacher, I acknowledged the “you-may-begin” nod and turned back to the crowd, realizing what I had gotten myself into.

When I moved to Brentwood, CA as a junior, I became part of the Interact Club. Interact is a service club for teenagers to work with the community and for the community through various events, service projects, and fundraising. I enjoyed being in Interact because I was able to meet new faces and explored Brentwood through their eyes. I dedicated my time to helping community events through doing cleanups and participating in events such as tending to booths at the fair.

This semester my primary goals were to eat healthier and to maintain my 6 mile run time. My two goals required a lot of dedication and the body works class has helped me stay focus on my goals throughout the entire semester. Having body work class on Mondays helps me get my week started with a good workout, secondly having this class in general works as a reminder that being healthy and active is an everyday challenge that truly pays off in the long run.

I thought I would have to go to my trial dressed in the same dirty, dark gray jumpsuit they had given me. No one had told me any different, so I just assumed that I would be taken to the court house in my jumpsuit like I saw all the criminals in the movies do. It wasn't until a guard collected me from my cell that people finally started explaining things to me. I was taken to a small room that was very similar to the one my lawyer and I had met in, except this one had a window instead of a one way mirror. From my seat, I looked out the window, trying to catch a glimpse of something from the other side. I craned my neck, I saw the officer that had led me into this room talking with a man, but the man was facing away from me. I couldn't tell

While talking to new classmates about our body biographies last week Friday, I realized something rather important. I realized that we all have different lives, bodies, and experiences. I became cognizant of the idea that we are all unique. I just find it so fascinating that as humans, it is natural for us to look at someone that we don’t even know and make assumptions; we are incredibly quick to judge. But when we look at someone from the outside, all we see is an exterior view; we can see hairstyles, clothes, height, weight, etc. However, when we look at someone, we can’t see their background. We don’t know their story. Having the body biographies discussion was such a critical reminder that we really don’t know anyone until we know their backstory.

I intensely watched as the landlady drug my body up the stairs. As she took my body up to my room. He started to realize she was more than slightly off her rocker. After she got my body to my room, she left and came back. As I looked closer, I noticed that she had a scalpel, bag of jars. I watched as she cut my body open, and started to put my organs in the jars. After she emptied my body, she started to stuff my body with sawdust. I should’ve left before she showed me around.

Please tell me again Why do I keep coming back I don't wanna do this anymore Coming back to you is like ecstasy One taste and I want more Let me take a breath I am ready to let you go You are bad for me But I always ask for more I get lost in the deep You are the only drug I need

Her cold latex hands took hold of my bare arm as she pulled it toward her and said with a smile, “this will only hurt a bit!” I felt a chill go through my body as the hypodermic sword pierced my skin. The white walls around me seemed to be closing in like a vignette photo, darkening around the edges and becoming blurry until suddenly, darkness. I was floating upon a puddle of dark abyss. I laid there for what seemed like hours until my limp body hit the tile floor. I awoke in a daze moments later, my feet being held above my now dizzy head and feeling like I had been hit like a truck. “What happened?” I mumbled as I began to sit up. The room, now filled with doctors and nurses, erupted in voices insisting I lie back down.

For the past two months, starting on March 1st, I have aimed to improve my physical wellness. Fitness has always been my weakest aspect of wellness, and I knew it needed to change, which is why I set two primary goals for myself, one involving physical activity and the other related to my sleep habits. I aimed to go on a hike, practice yoga, and do one other exercise routine, each once a week, and get to bed by 10pm nightly. Hiking has always been a passion of mine, I had been wanting to start doing yoga, and in the past I’ve struggled with poor sleep habits which were detrimental to my health, which was how I decided on each of my goals. In a checklist, I wrote that I would buy exercise materials, go to my doctor, and take a hike that was

Confused, shocked and fear filled my mind as I lye on my side, gasping for air, trying desperately to stagger onto my knees. A sharp pain suddenly ran up my spine into my forehead and quickly I collapsed back onto the cold damp floor inside this mangled metal coffin in which I was trapped in. Bit by bit I moved my hand closer to my forehead, trying to impede this massive throbbing that was affecting my head. I skimmed my forehead and paused my hand on a huge gash. The pain shot into my head again, but I was able to clutch on to the seat and hold my balance. There was blood pouring down the side

I must have dozed from exhaustion because I wasn’t sure how long I had been alone with no one in the room to attend me. Tension, oceans of it, built up fast, feeling like a pressure cooker about to explode any second. I opened my mouth to scream, but dryness and terror took my voice and no one heard the faint sound which emerged. That very moment I involuntarily began rising up from the bed and pushing downwards, my body betraying me as it tried to wrench out the invader planted there five months earlier. Gushing blood and fluid poured out from the middle of my being like water from a busted pipe, and then there it was, I could feel it, bulging and slippery, sliding out slowly at first then faster, the sheet moved and I felt something thump against my left inner thigh. I froze in the horror of it all, unable to pull the sheet aside or up to gaze beneath. One single droplet of a tear managed to fall down the side of my face, making its way across my ear consequently fading into the pillow below. I could swear I heard a crack deep inside as my heart severed into two

When we humans think of rituals, we often resort to the primitive, voodoo, magic stereotype that follows the term ritual. However, my personal ritual does not include hand-made dolls with pins in their back or belief in a higher magical being. My family and I partake in the years old tradition, of going to Nights Beach on the side of Lake Erie and staying for a weekend. This ritual of ours helps us to get away from the GO - GO - GO lifestyle we all seem to get caught up in. I believe this qualifies as a ritual because socially, it reconnects my entire family on my mom side, and even a few stepsisters from my step dad's side. I have immediate family that come from Ottawa, to Etobicoke. Even my step siblings, who live as far as Alberta will come out for the weekend, to spend time