Personal Narrative-Computed Tomography

Well Michelle had her PET scan and a CT scan last Thursday. We thought we had to wait until Tuesday for the results but to our relief the doctor called Friday night to tell us the good news. The tumors had shrunk and Michelle is officially in remission. Well, I went crazy happy but Michelle wanted to wait until we saw the doctor on Tuesday, just to make sure what we heard was right. Well we went to the doctor yesterday and she confirmed that everything is good. The chemo worked and after nine months of craziness it was all worth it at the end. If I go back to my old blogs and see what she went through between the stent not working, the hospital stay, the allergic reaction to the chemo and on

My interest in pursuing sonography has been influenced by a variety of experiences including academic and personal experiences. At a young age, I was exposed to the world of diagnostic imaging. I distinctly remember the dizziness and shortness of breath I continuously encountered on a daily basis. when I went in for my physical my blood pressure was extremely high. At just eighteen I was diagnosed with hypertension. Given my age it was quite shocking. I underwent many different test and evaluations where the doctor found I had an abnormal EKG. Finally, I was instructed to get an echocardiogram. Although I felt nervous I was fascinated with how the sonographer was able to ease my nerves with her knowledge and insight. Echocardiograms and other test became a part of my routine to monitor my heart. Although it was a scary experience today’s technology allowed me to live a healthy life and take preventative measures to ensure my heart was healthy. My aspiration to be a sonographer began there, I knew this was something I wanted to pursue, the ability to help others has always been my passion.

I could feel the tears forming in my eyes. It was getting hard to breathe. The only thing I wanted to do right then and there in that moment is leave that room. I tried speaking, words wouldn’t form. I turned and looked at my brother and sister who just set there, no emotion on their faces. How could they just set there? At this point I was furious and found myself running to my room. Once to my room, I immediately began asking God why. Why my parents? What did I do to deserve such a thing? My pillow soon became saturated in tears.

"Don't worry, Tori," my dad tried to tell me before he died, but twelve-year-old me wasn't listening. I was too scared, because if my dad said those words, it meant they were going to be his final ones. "Victoria, look at me. Please, Tori, just look." I had never before heard his voice like this. He was pleading with me, his voice sounding so broken. "When I go wherever I'm going, I don't want to go there knowing that you're lost. I want you to know that you need to keep being my happy little girl." My hands were clamped over my ears, but I could still hear him quietly sobbing.

My interest in sonography began about a year and a half ago when I became an egg donor. I have always wanted to help couples struggling with infertility, and egg donation was one contribution I could make. At my first ultrasound appointment, I had a chance to talk to my sonographer about her experience working at a fertility center She shared about the parents' journey from finding a donor, to IVF process, and delivery She also shared the anguish parents go through after failed attempts or miscarriages. However, like everything else, the good moments outweigh the bad sometimes. I saw the pictures of babies they helped bring into this world, and I realized I could be a part of that process. As soon as I left my appointment, I began my research

Coming off the bus from my first full week of middle school, I vividly remember the abnormal absence of cars in the driveway. Using the spare key under the “welcome” mat, I opened the door only to find an empty house with the lights still on, TV running, and cold leftovers. As an eleven year-old coming home to an unusually vacant house, panic flooded my body. Immediately, I sprinted to the home phone and frantically dialed my mother. The dissonance rings that followed as I hit the call button seemed to last a lifetime; my breath drew still as those consistent buzzes stopped and my mother's comforting voice answered “hello”. The pounding in my chest ceased, yet worry still overpowered my conscience. She explained that she and my father had to abruptly leave to

A year ago around this time we were all happy to know were in the radiography program, all so nervous yet excited. One year has past and its crazy to think we are more than half way to the finish line.

I would've never believed it if I didn’t see the look on her face the tears in her eyes. I repeated the worst in my mind. Those words just those simple words. I felt helpless . I just want to see my mammy. She was my best friend. We would always play school and watch cooking shows. Mammy loved to cook even in her wheelchair she would make supper every night, we stayed the night at her house every Friday night until she went to the hospital. I felt so much sadness, I was never going to see her again. Who was I gonna watch cooking shows with again, every Friday night was never going to be the same.

I was given a green binder with 5 folders and 5 notebooks. One for arithmatics. One for writing. One for sciences. One for history. And one for our sanity. We sat in the beige chairs. The teachers rotated. Instead of us leaving and walking into a new room, teachers took their supplies and moved into different rooms. So we couldn’t skip classes. I had never been to school. My whole life was running away from danger. Running away from pain and hurt. But pain and hurt come in many forms. Physical,emotional, hunger, voices in the head. I could tell I wouldn’t sleep well here either. Even worse now that my sister wasn’t with me. I had never left her. Mom and Dad died in front of us. I didn’t know what was going on. “Close your eyes.” And then screaming. Gasp and silent tears. I opened my eyes and black bags were being dragged away. Then there was fire and smoke. I was coughing and choking. Tears violently streamed down my face. Angry eyes were crying pain. And then she carried me. I was only four and she was only 16. I was barely walking, tripping over my own feet. But she held me tight and ran. I cried into her shirt as she ran. Bumping up and down furiously and wind blowing against us. We have been to 57 camps in 12

I sat by his hospital bed, but I couldn’t look into his eyes, for fear that the once warm glow in his gaze had been taken and replaced with a cold dead stare. It had been a long road down to get to this point; each step just got worse, everyone getting weaker till they snap. At first I was numb, I couldn’t consider the thought losing him, to live a life without my hero. When dad came home with the news, when all the cards fell down and the walls burnt and charred till they didn’t exist. I felt nothing. I know that there should have been something else there. Everyone around me was sinking, but I was staying afloat. I didn’t know that I was just paddling for my life in a sea of reality. I was in safe mode, refusing to accept the truth. I wasn’t ready to lose my father.

It was June 2014, when my 13-year-old daughter first started to experience a tough time with her motor skills. She had a significant foot drop and over compensated with the right side of her body, it was almost like she had suffered a stroke and it had damaged the left side of her body. She shook badly and couldn’t keep food on her fork or spoon and dropped her cup and plate numerous of times. I took her in to our primary care doctor and he ordered an MRI asap, I knew something was wrong when they told us at the imaging center she needed to follow up in the morning with her doctor. That evening her doctor called us at home and told us we needed to take her to Primary Children's Hospital first thing in the morning. They thought she had brain cancer, I was shocked. I remember tumbling to my knees and howling in the driveway. I called my older three children home and told them what the doctors had said. I couldn’t tell my daughter I just held her that night on the couch and prayed that this was all a big mistake.

Our job for the day was to prune Fire Blight from some of the Ginger Gold apple trees. Just as I walked up to the first tree, the pain in my head became unbearable. I told my father that it felt like I was standing on top of my head. One option was to go to the Emergency Room, but I opted to go to my regular doctor instead so my father made an appointment for me at ten o’clock. When my father called, he was instructed to give me some medicine to relieve my headache and to have me drink some water. After taking some medicine and drinking some water, I went over to my grandmother’s office so she could keep an eye on my symptoms. Usually rest helps to relieve my headaches so I laid my head down to rest, but doing so only made the pain worse. My father stopped in the office to check on me before going back out to work when I told him that I could not wait until ten o’clock. We went to the ER, but before we left I began to feel nauseous.

I could barely breathe. Panicking and sweating, I walked out of the restroom and tried to think of places where my family could’ve gone to. When I exited the restroom and turned the corner, the hallway looked more like an abandoned ghost town. Luckily, anyone who passed by me didn’t bother to care that I was alone. Then when I realized something, my heart sank. I had this hole in my heart that could never be replaced because I realized that they had forgotten about me. Even my own sister forgot about me. I thought that my sister and I had a special bond that couldn’t be broken no matter what, clearly I was wrong. It really hurts knowing that I was in an endless loop of sadness. I was lost, without any help of finding my family because I didn’t know anyone’s phone number and I didn’t even have a phone. Even after accepting the fact that I was lost I still tried to do something.

The whole trip I didn’t know what I was doing he had taken me to the hospital and I knew something was wrong. We walked in and we checked in. We went to room 231. When we walked in I saw a familiar face. It was my mother . I wondered in my why was she here and was had happened. We waited there for a while then my mother broke the silence by saying “son I just found out that I pancreatic cancer.” I was speechless... my mind went blank and I couldn’t think of anything to say. I left the room a little while later and waited. I could hear my mom and my father arguing, and the word I kept hear from my father was ‘money.’ I hated that my father cared more about money than my mom's life. Also while I thought about all of the good time that I had with my mom. It made me think of this time where I was scared in my room because the wind would blow the tree outside my window. The tree would scratch the window and my mind would think of the worst thing that might be outside even though I knew it was the tree. I got scared and my mom came and acted as if we were flying in a plane and the scratching of the tree was just an old man hearing aids.Another time was the thunder and lightning and I wasn’t able to sleep. See told me thunder was just a big clap and the lighting was someone turning on and off a really big light.

The stressful time, which I have encountered in my life is a major illness called Malaria. My body was infected with malaria disease and I suffered with bad health for about three months. In the third year of my under graduation, I have been attacked with malaria and It affected me allot. I believe it was the last day of the first semester in my third year of my under graduation. Myself came out from the college to my room and I was feeling little dull that day. Slowly there was a slight increase in my body temperature that night and I thought it might be a normal fever. It was a tough time to sleep that night in spite to the rise in my body temperature and even I have suffered with body pains that night. I was all alone in my room that night and moreover, I am staying about 300 kilometres far away from my parents to pursue my undergraduate studies. That night passed away and the next day In the morning I fell totally sick. There after I cannot have enough strength to do my work. On that day I did not go to my college and there after i made a phone call to my relative who lives in the town called Guntur. He arrived to my room in the evening and took me to the hospital. I was starving from the morning because I couldn’t have enough strength to cook for myself as I was totally ill on that day. The doctor prescribed certain Laboratory tests and for the mean time as it became evening he told to take some medicines that might decrease the intensity of my fever.