Personal Narrative Essay : A Bad Night Out With My Sister

Have you seen my husband? Is all my mom was shouting as she held my hand tightly, running back and forth through the hospital? A receptionist sent us to a room, which felt like coming into an isolated mausoleum. The cold air enveloped my entire body, ice has replaced my spine and numbness is all my fingers felt. The room was somber dark, dead silence; the only sound heard was the heart machine ... Beep … Beep. There wasn’t anything more traumatizing then seeing my father lain on the bed, unresponsive, tubes coming from out mouth and nose. The sadness and desperation in his eyes broke my heart. All of sudden the heart monitor went off with a loud buzzing sound. A nurse jumped out of nowhere “Code Blue”, in matter of seconds 4 nurses and a doctor surrounded my father, my mom and I mindset was at a shock, like were able to see what was happening but couldn’t do anything our body was some glued to the floor. The doctors and nurses tired to help my father but it was too late,

The parents came out of Grandma’s room by one by one, bags under their eyes, makeup running down their face, and bright red noses. By that time, I could almost predict what happened. As my mom and dad approached us with their heads down, I prepared myself to hear exactly what I never wanted to hear. “The doctors are turning off the life support machine. She isn’t suffering anymore, and she will be looking over every one of you guys. She said she loves you all so much,” Mom told us while my dad didn’t hide his tears back.

The stench of death hit my nostrils as I opened the door to go inside, which is why I always hated going to the hospital. We waited the fifteen minute queue, until I heard my name from a nurse. I followed the nurse into a small, beige room. I sat down on the examining table, as my doctor walked in. I told him my symptoms, and he did a quick check up. His cold fingers pressed against my lower back. “Breathe in and out.” He said. I did as told. “Slower.” he exclaimed. At that moment, while I was slowly breathing in and out, I could hear a small click every time I inhaled. The doctor looked up and said, “Ahhh, you seem to have pneumonia.” He explained to my mom and I what that meant because we were clueless. After he finished, he told us that if I waited any longer to go to the hospital, he wouldn’t be speaking to me, which opened my mom’s eyes finally. He told me that I couldn’t go to school for at least another two weeks, gave me a school note and my prescription. We left the hospital. My mom dropped me off, and went to pick up the medication. As I lay in bed, I remember thinking about everything that has happened to me in the past two days, and what the doctor told me. Those thoughts were interrupted by the opening of my bedroom door as my mom walked in. She handed me the medication. I swallowed the pills, and fell asleep. The next morning my mom walks in with a stack of papers. She said, “It’s alright if you’re not able to attend class,

I remember waking up that day and that feeling in my stomach, knowing what was about to happen. Growing up I knew about my father's sickness. My family, I recall, was always supportive. No one ever thinks about how one day, everyone you’re around for years, can just vanish. I cherished my friends as I was growing up. I lived there for a majority of my life, up until fourth grade. I remember sitting at a neighbor's house and having the mother come into the room and inform me that I need to be home swiftly. As I ran home, my head was crowded with thoughts to the point where I could not even think about why I was supposed to be home quickly. That day marked the transition of what would be the biggest change in my life. As by dad became sicker,

My brother kept on crying as I pulled him closer into my arms, listening to the sirens blasting the in distance. As the ambulance pulled up, I couldn’t move. My body was frozen holding my brother watching the paramedics pull my mom from the car. I tried to call out for her, but nothing came out. They worked quickly strapping her to a gurney and whisking her off into the distance. Through the fog, I watched the ambulance until I could no longer see the lights. It was then realized that my mother was gone, and we were all alone. As a policeman approached us he got down on one knee to be face to face with me.

In Emergency Medical Technician school, you learn that when a patient is in critical condition they will feel an impending sense of doom before there body goes into complete shock. After this drastic change in behavior I sensed that his condition was about to get much worse. As he began to scream his evergreen eyes found mine. Our eyes were locked, and that’s when I watched them disappear like a sunset into the back of his head. Sometimes I can’t help but wonder if it was my eyes that were the last thing he saw on Earth. Then he seized. All I remember thinking was that I had to get out of the

It was a small wood building kind of like a barn. And we walked in and my mother asked for Mr. Fredrickson and the nurse said “Right this way.” We followed her to the room door I was shaking and nervous my mom was too. I put my hand on the cold steel door knob; I turned it and slowly and opened it gently. There was my dad lying on the bed, we looked at each other and I yelled “Papa!” I was so glad to see him just like he was glad to see us. After my mother, father, and I caught up on things and talked for a while the doctor slowly opened the door and said “You are able to leave, all you need is this.” She said after pulling a wheelchair from behind herself. We all gave each other hugs. I was so happy that my father could come

As she walks into the room, all I could see is her eyes overflowing with tears. I turn over to find my sister also tearing up. We all come together for a hug. I try not to cry as it was embarrassing for me. It would have shown that I wasn’t prepared. But to be honest nobody was prepared. I mean why would they. It was a hospital. As everything starts to settle down, I glance around the room to see most of the people are women. Not just regular women. Pregnant women. They had babies inside of them. One was inside of my mom. Why would a place safe for pregnant women actually turn out to be life threatening?

We drove for what seemed hours to my six year old self. When we arrived in the parking lot of the hospital, which I can never remember the name of, he told us why we were there. Lauren threw a fit, screaming and crying like someone was hurting her. She shouted “I never wanted him”. I believe that is still to this day the biggest lie she has ever told. We walked up to the big glass hospital doors, and straight through them to the elevator. I waited and waited for what seemed forever until the big silver doors opened, and my dad showed us which way to go. We walked past room after room listening to the crying and sometimes laughter. Finally, we got to the right room and we walked in. There sat my mother on a hospital bed. She didn’t seem hurt or in pain, but they said it was happening fast. At one point my mother’s father (Poppy) took us down to the cafe, and all I remember is that hospitals have very good spaghetti. My Poppy got a phone call and all of the sudden we were on the move, going through the halls like there was a fire we were trying to escape from. When we got back to my mother’s hospital room, everyone looked so upset; their faces, eyes and cheeks were red and

Even through all of my years in medical school, I still could not come to an understanding that medical professionals could not save all of their patients. Julia’s death haunted me, I couldn’t sleep thinking of all the ways I could have saved her and when I did sleep I had nightmares of her death. I began to feel depressed, and lost my confidence as a physician. No amount of schooling could have prepared me for dealing with the physical and emotional stress of my first patient dying, especially one I had frequently treated. If I had been treating a patient in my own home, I would have dropped to my knees and sobbed. Something about the location of a hospital numbs emotion, and I felt like I wasn’t allowed to be upset at Julia’s death. The other nurses enjoyed working with Julia as well, but I seemed to be the only one unable to deal with her death. The entire community turned upset, Julia was inspiring to both medical staff and the other refugees who knew her from their escape. The atmosphere was cold, like a warmth had been stripped away from it. I began to distance myself from my patients, and the other staff who had worked with her took note and saved me from going into depression. The other doctors and nurses knew how young as a physician I was, and the likeness I had formed with Julia. They gave me the best advice on how to deal with a patient dying; death is inevitable and medical professionals are grieve but also have other patients in need of

My surgeon, Dr. Mainigi came back into the room with two other doctors and she told me that it was time for me to be wheeled away. I said my “I love you’s” to my family as one of the male doctors wheeled me away. He was asking me questions, trying to ease my nerves a little bit. We finally reached the operating room. I transferred from the hospital bed to the operating table. My heart was beating so fast, as I realized this was really happening. There were at least 10 doctors in the room and there was a light above me shining down on me. Dr. Mainigi anesthetized me and before I knew it, I saw

Reality set in at this moment and I raced over to my brother and embraced him to let him know everything was ok. He looked up at me and asked me if dad was going to die. I remember fighting back my tears and telling him that our daddy was super strong like a superhero and that he was going to be just fine. After a distressing three hours passed I was finally allowed to go back and see my dad. He was lying in a bed almost lifeless. At that moment, they did not know if he was going to have brain damage or if he was going to live through the night. He was covered from head to toe in blood, cuts, and bruises. I could overhear my mom yelling at a nurse at the station asking why they weren’t doing surgery or helping my dad. The nurse asked her to calm down and explained that the head injury my dad suffered from being thrown into a metal telephone pole was extensive and the doctor was examining the x-rays before they could do

The truth is, I didn’t want to go at all, and I knew it would be very painful. Sure enough, when the deceased young man’s mother’s eyes locked on mine and she grabbed my hand, it seemed like an eternity! It was like she was holding on to her son’s life; it was painful, awkward, and very hard. I’m glad that the kids talked me into going, it was healing for everyone.

I watched as my family said goodbye as a I lay in my hospital bed, breathing raspily. I told them that I loved them. I tried to reach out for my mother’s hand, but was stopped by the short slack of all the tubes and wires connected to me. She comes closer so she can hold my hand, so she can comfort me in my last moments.

At the end of a busy day, my father calls and says that my mother is very sick. She had been in the hospital for intravenous fluids. I could tell by his tone of voice that something was gravely wrong. I rushed to the hospital to find my mother barely able to breathe. Her nurse was racing to control her breathing while giving her a diuretic. My mother is a very small person and the nurse had ascertained the fact that she was given too much fluid. She was in fluid overload. Her nurse had just saved my mother’s life. All the while, he was able to comfort my father and reassure me. He