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Personal Narrative-Constructive Essay

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As I lay on the frozen, solid ground, my heart galloped and my stomach plummeted. I glanced down and examined my leg. Blood flowed from the shrapnel penetrated flesh. Unfortunately, the excruciating pain remained the only thought I could comprehend. The surgeon glanced my leg over and assigned me to his colleague. Did this imply I stand as a lost cause? His assistant stood lanky and gaunt with a reassuring smile. I encountered him before and trusted his work. Blood covered his tunic and his hands. He began to scrutinize and analyze the wound examining for infection. The adjunct analyzed his thoughts out loud, and he worked in a voluble manner. "What is your pain level?" he asked. "A 13 on a scale of 10" I replied. He worked diligently and

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