Personal Narrative Essay

cancer is the enemy. cncer kills over 20 thousand people a day occording to global report. this terrole disease is so common 12.7 million people a year find out they have cancer and of that number rouggly 7.6 million die. cancer being the leading cause of death world wide has led to several fundraisers to support our courageous fighters. a fundrauser i have been lucky enough to participate in is a 5k run/3k walk. i was 13 when i partocipated in my first 5k run/3k walk in stuttgart germany for a light the night for all kinds of cancers. pervous to the fundraiser i was sadly told my cousin who was just a baby at the tome had been diagnosed with luekimia. immediately i wanted to help, i began by spreading the word around my school and having my friends buy tshirts titled

SC completed RA HV with Pa on1/12/2016. By Pa walking to the door to let SC in the apartment she was severely SOB and she was wearing her oxygen. SC asked Pa if this was common and she reported that it’s always like that she just have to pace herself. Pa reports that she uses to have bloody noses and sore throat all the time but now her humidifier has help her al in controlling that. Pa's as a history of COPD, asthma, OA, RA, GERD all of which affect her functioning and ability to adequate care for herself. At one of Pa’s routine medical visit it was discover that a lump she has had for many years is now growing and her doctor is very concerned Pa a battery of test down in November, 2015 and was schedule to get the result two months later 1/10/2016 (but 1/10/2016 saw on a Sunday and that doctors office was closed Pa was sent a letter from the doctor’s office asking

I am only going to refer to my personal scan rate for the month of December, 2017. The December ER-KBMA -Compliant Form documents three non-scan medicinces

A few years ago cheerleading was a huge part of my life. I was on two competitive teams that worked hard three days a week to perfect our routines. When we were not practicing we were encouraged to attend open gyms which were aimed at practicing our tumbling skills. I attended the open gym being held one day not knowing that it would be my last. As I landed a one handed cartwheel my knee was twisted so drastically that I heard a loud pop that followed up with intense pain. After icing it and resting for a few days, I started to interpret my pain as being more serious due to the fact that it was giving out on me while doing daily tasks. I also had two close friends that had torn ligaments in their knees that needed repaired with surgery, so

I never would think about showing an animal. I decided to go wild and show a steer my junior year, I did not think about showing an animal so big before but it was worth the wild. I knew it would be hard work, dedication and responsibility. I worked so hard to get where I wanted that steer and it sure did pay off. Being successful is something that someone feels when they work for something that they tried so hard on and then succeeded in it. Success is the way I felt when I was getting ready for the show while I was standing to be called in my class and how I felt when I got out of the show ring.

I entered the gym door with 16 people, walking to the lockers on a hot summer day. One by one we all changed into our uniform. When we finished the coach called us all out and made us get a volleyball. Things got really interesting and fun. From there we practiced serving the ball over the net. Next, he made us get in a circle to serve the ball to each other. Tomorrow same time 2:30, we will start again. The objective for today was to play against the team. He split the girls and me into two teams. I got on the black line, feeling anxious but dauntless. I saw the net and the line across the other room and I gazed at it. At practice, I couldn’t hit the ball back when the other team served. I constantly tried and tried, but I failed. I experienced that volleyball’s not my thing, but I had to keep trying.

I felt this was the best opportunity for me to get rid of them both. Dave was walking next to me and I could easily stab James in the back. I had no choice but attack Dave first, to make sure he wouldn't try and stop me from hurting James. I looked over to the cave ceiling and pointed, hoping Dave would look over. Sure enough, as he looked over I grabbed the blade from my waistband and stuck it in the side of his chest. A loud, unexpected scream followed. James quickly turned around to see me stabbing his partner. He suddenly pulled his gun up, aimed it at my head and pulled the trigger. Luckily, the bullet missed and only went through my shoulder. As it went through I fell to the ground, from the shock. James rushed over to Dave and tried to stop the excessive bleeding. As I gained control over my body again, I rushed at James and tackled him to the ground. He struggled to gain the upper hand in the fight and kept trying to push me off himself. “Stop struggling James, we can both walk out of here alive” I pleaded.

Being healthy and staying active is not something my family has been worried about. I have to be honest,I thought the same thing before I started wrestling. I ate anything I wanted too, I was not too active. I like to sleep in and play video games. I was out of shape and couldn’t run very far without losing my breath. This all changed when I started to wrestle.

HAROLD, is a flight instructor. He is in his mid fifties, and is too lackadaisical to be giving lessons. His hair is a frazzled mess. He looks as though he just rolled out of bed. He leans back in his seat wearing sunglasses, having not a care in the world.

Ten years ago I was celebrating my 49th birthday and on the verge of a life changing decade. After months of mammograms, tests, and biopsies, I heard the dreaded three words "you have cancer". You know that cliché movie scene where the character is sucked to the ceiling and watches the doctor from above and all she hears is a muted "blah, blah, blah"? That was my reality. I lived in what felt like a dream state for several years after hearing those words. One cannot be and will not ever be the same after a cancer diagnosis, in particular after your two favorite body parts are cut from your body. Fast forward to today, my 59th birthday and after many surgeries and procedures, I am living my "new normal". After my deconstruction and reconstruction, many

People say that siblings do not have an impact on each other, that they just fight all of the time. Well that is a lie. A sibling is a friend, family, and the one that is there when no one else might be. They are the ones that are there from the first breath, the first words, and the first steps. My brother, Donovan, is my rock. He is the one that I know that I can trust with anything. He is four years older than I am. He stands five feet and eleven inches tall. He is muscularly built with a military haircut. Usually he is wearing shorts and a t-shirt. Every now and then he will be in a golf shirt and khakis. He either will smell like his dog Rex or like his deodorant. His smile is one in a billion. When he talks, I hear a somewhat low voice with a hint of a country accent. He can be a bit of a smart-aleck. It seems like he constantly has to be moving. My brother is a guy that anyone would be lucky enough to know and have as their friend.

The day we found out that my grandma was battling cancer for the second time, my parents didn't want me to visit him in the condition that he was in. but finally I told them that I just need to see my grandpa and they were right, I didn't want to see him like that, they had him strapped to a hospital bed, and wouldn't let him up. You could tell my grandpa didn't want to be in there he couldn't even speak but by the way he was grabbing us in the sense of “let me leave”. I just knew this was bad. S few weeks later they sent him to a hospital home, and we went to go visit him he was doing GREAT he was walking talking eyes open and watching the Sunday night football like he usually did, cowboys were his favorite team. I was so happy for him and me that I wasn't going to lose him and I knew in my heart that he was getting better.

Allen had fallen from the ceiling after another short hour or so, it turned out that the small lime green, beeping and glowing contraption was an energy shield. Something Mike had commended him on retrieving, telling him how crucial that will be for him in battle. Phoenix smiled as the days events played out over in his head, they were getting stronger now, they’d escaped a head Elark facility without a single fatality. The three grown ups were in the kitchen talking, Phoenix expected they were discussing their next moves. Daniel was sitting at Carter’s desk by the window with his head propped up on his hand, absentmindedly tapping a pen on the hard wood and looking lost in thought. Carter was in the shower where he’d been for the past 30

The chipped white door was stuck to the coop, as if a demon did not want me to set foot in his domain. A loud thud of the door slammed the exterior two by fours and was at once open. Dust dangled down from from the opening of the striking ebony and ivory door. It filled my eyes with crunchy gravel. I stepped down into the coop and my foot met the mixture of chicken and duck feces. To the right was a damaged window with jagged glass. Chicken wire filled in the spots where the shard glass was missing. Further down the wall broken eggshells intermittently littered cobwebs that filled the abandoned nesting box. As I gandered at the back wall a brown recluse spider skittered between two cracked bricks. It was lit up enough that I could see the

I remember when I was four, my mother would sit with me on the tiled floor of our living room and she would teach me how to write my name. It was few days before my first day of school so she wants me to know the basics. She went on and continued to teach me how to count. “1, 2, 3, 4, 6, 5, 7…” I said and she stopped me. I don’t remember what happened or what she said after stopping me but I’m certain that is when my frustration with Math started. I thought I was stupid at it. It was horrible for a four-year old kid to be thinking that she’s stupid. But that’s why I worked hard. I did something about my weakness and got better; and even better when I started to love numbers.