Personal Narrative Essay

I did not meet with Pt. , I was paged by Lisa Micciulla, front desk in the emergency room to please come to the ED concerning an "urgent" situation regarding this Pt. When I arrived in the ED registration area an MGH Security personnel stopped me to talk with Pt's daughter, Charlene McDonald. Pt's daughter explained she was not being allowed to see her father, who she understands was brought to MGH for surgery after a fall. Explained to Ms. McDonald, I was aware of Pt having a gaurdian, and that there was a court ordered visitation schedule between Ms. McDonald and Pt. She reported this was an extreme situation and she showed me text messages she had sent to Pt's guardian, Attorney Tine Hajjar. I advised I could not allow Ms. McDonald access to Pt. Based on the order from probate court. Ms. McDonald has visits with Pt on Monday, Wednesday, and Saturday 11:00 a.m. -4:00 p.m.

Wednesday, January 14, 2018. The colors of the dull classroom brings my spirits down, the ora coming from the students is uncomfortable, and my alarm clock is my worst enemy. As of now, I am sitting in a desk being told to write an introduction for an argumentative paper, but I’m not even awake yet. I walked into the school building exactly thirty-two minutes ago and I want to go home and sleep, I’m slightly confused on what we are doing because my senses are working but I just can’t comprehend what I am actually doing.

Walking into the auditorium for my first audition in high school, my mind raced with fears and anxieties. I auditioned with a group of friends for the production of In the Heights. Immediately, I realized the high school’s drama program differed greatly from the middle school’s. The directors expected the students to prepare their song ahead of the time. My group had little to no preparation; It was the definition of “winging it.” When returning home, I began brainstorming other after school activities I could join because of the poor performance my group and I put on. Shockingly, I made the show and every show since. That moment changed my life for the better. Freshman year I was a shy, insecure student afraid of socializing with the others. Today, in my senior year, I am no longer that person. I am a confident young

The summer of 2010, my sister was diagnosed with a tumor the size of a walnut pressing on the frontal lobe of her brain. With a hopeful prognosis of slow growth and surgery scheduled in late fall, the outlook was promising. When she went in for surgery the doctors found a lesion instead of the tumor they had diagnosed her with. The seemingly positive news turned dark as they explained they’d need to biopsy the tissue to understand what had caused it. In the middle of my second fall semester at Edmonds Community College, my sister underwent endless scans and tests. When she began experiencing severe migraines, aural hallucinations, seizures, and severe mood destabilization, I drove to as many of her appointments in Seattle as I could and spent weekends with her where she lived with my mother in Centralia. Though we avoided discussing her condition, I couldn’t stop imagining the potential fatal outcome.

I sat and stared at the blank screen in front of me. It was as blank as my mind. I dragged my mouse across the screen deleting my work for the eleventh time. We had been given a writing assignment in English two weeks ago. At first it didn’t seem like a hard assignment, I had never had problems writing before, but here I was, head in my hands stuck with writer’s block. I closed the blank word document, then my laptop. At least Mr. Johansen doesn’t have a due date for things, I thought. When he told us this at the beginning of the trimester, I knew it would be a problem for me because I am a procrastinator. I looked at my alarm clock and read the big red boxy numbers, 12:43. Well at least I will be able to get some sleep, I thought to myself

The gentle rays of the early morning sun were not the first things to wake Dr. John Watson. An alarm clock, placed strategically by the bedside, began to beep at approximately six am, waking the ex-army doctor. Now used to civilian life after only a few years, like any normal person, John slammed the snooze button and snuggled back into his warm bed once more. However, living in the same apartment building as the infamous Sherlock Holmes, sleep was a sacred privilege that needed to be honored by both parties’ in silence. But today was Mrs. Hudson’s birthday, so falling back asleep was not an option. Last night, both residents agreed to do something nice for their sweet old landlady by getting up early and making pancakes as a thank you for

She sat at her computer with an anxious wonder at what she would write. As she typed she felt the familiar cold rhythm of the keys clicking. Tap. Tap. Tap. She became lost in her story and her tapping became more and more rhythmic, like the songs of her tribal ancestors. It was symphony of tapping. Her fingers melted into the keyboard and, and the hard plastic became a part of her. An instant sensation of peace washed over her and she began her story. She was no longer typing, but simply thinking, for she and her story were one.

Cold and flu season was upon the nation and one December my kids, one after another, caught that season's cold, along with its lingering cough. After weeks of taking care of the kids, I inevitably, got the gift that kept on giving. A yucky cold. I should have known this was going to be one for the record books because the sore throat was SO painful. Not. fun.

Ally’s family is very wealthy but, their money couldn’t help her father’s sickness, he died in 1947. Her mother remarried to a rich man that had a daughter of his own. Ally was sure that her stepsister Ally hated her guts she just didn’t know why. Ally hated that her mom had to choose a man with so much money because it felt like he was trying to buy their love.

…I stepped out of bed onto the cold floor. Then I began to head down stairs. I put two pieces of bread in the toaster and had my morning coffee. Then once I finished the warm coffee, which was quite nice on a cold November morning, I unlocked the front door and headed out to check the mail box but before I could take another step, I stopped and noticed something on my front porch, I bent down to get a better look and realized it was an iPhone…but what was a ‘very new looking’ iPhone doing on my porch at 11am? I picked it up and pressed the home button to turn it on. It was a brand new iPhone that had just come out a few months ago and was suppose to have the best camera a phone could have. Being a photographer, I quickly opened up the camera.

I was genuinely surprised I didn’t have to wake up earlier. My flight left from Los Angeles at 10am, and I was to arrive in Scotland in the afternoon of the next day due to time zone differences. My Uber driver was asking me tons of questions on the way to the airport, and personally, I like to play a game whenever I’m in an Uber; it’s called “Who Am I?” That day, I was a college student going back to St Andrews University, I had previously researched it when I considered majoring in English, so I had all answers at my disposal. I arrive at the airport and there are practically no lines for TSA, leaving me to wander around the airport for an hour before my flight is called. No matter what time of day, airports have always been surreal to me. It feels like time doesn’t exist, and there is an overwhelming

The moment I knew I was no longer a child was a regular day. I was driving to work in a car that I had changed the oil in. It was with the knowledge that I had turned in a major essay for my linguistics course at a local college. My mind recently had been wondering when I could start filing my taxes. I live by the lists and I have a mental list of what makes a person an adult. I was surprised to find on that average November day that I fit quite neatly into most of the categories, I had transportation, employment, a sense of autonomy, ideological suredness, ability to speak and be heard, and mental faculties in line with a pragmatism that is necessary to function in the real world. The French song playing on the radio and the brightness of the cloudy sky somehow triggered this revelation.

My sister Julia, at the age of twelve, went to school on a Tuesday. Though on this particular day, she chose to wear her brand new short overalls she had gotten as a birthday present. The shorts, which she wore with pride, were denim and accented with lace. When she wore them, her face exuded confidence.

Midway along the journey of my life, I pause to find myself in a darkened office, for I had wandered off from the studious path. The cold piercing glow of my monitor against bloodshot eyes taunted them with just how exhausted they had become. Projects that never seemed to want to work, grew more dysfunctional with every fix. The continued fatigue drove the temptation of distraction. Gazing out the window of my study I began examining the parking lot across the street. I began watching a figure fumbling between the cars. My mind began wondering how I would ever get my work done, I began wondering just how long I had until the sun 's unwelcome glow would fill my peripheral vision while I continued to clack away against a futile assortment of code. A loud wailing of a car siren, focuses me. Again out the window I see the figure now in a car with the alarms blaring. I watch intently waiting for them to shut off, they don 't. I stare blankly as the car starts driving down the nearby alley, horns echoing solely in the night. Listening while the horns become quieter and further away. I can tell what street they are headed down and I think of what I should do. Grabbing my phone, then second guessing myself. Staring at it waiting for it to call someone who can do something. After blindly observing my phone for what seemed like hours, I begin to realize it is too late to do anything. Before I know it my head lay on my desk. I keep telling myself that if I only close my eyes for a

I knew, soon, I would have to do it. The ominous desk sat by the far wall of my room, taunting me. Books and papers lay scattered around, a computer, towering them in authority. I tried to push the thought away, but the computer lay there, calling me. As I finally worked the nerve to get out of bed, the cold floor punched through the soles of my feet. I trudged nine feet to the chair, which was waiting patiently for me to sit in it, I looked at the time, 11:30PM.