I was frantically navigating a wheel chair with my mother in it. I was avoiding stretchers, rushing nurses and orderlies through the corridors of a hospital emergency room; it was not an easy task. We came to a curtained room and patiently waited for a doctor. A lady appeared in a white gown and went through the routine medical exam. I still remember her face, her compassionate eyes, comforting words and a personal touch; she held my shoulders calmed my nerves and assured that my mother was not in any danger, she ‘will be taken care of’. Wiping my tears she handed us prescriptions and advised what to do with my mother’s mild appendicitis. We were slowly ushered to exit. I wanted to personally thank the doctor and asked for her. To my astonishment, the staff told me she was not the doctor she was a Physician Assistant a PA!
It was not until my acceptance in a nutrition program at a local university hospital that I started to grapple with the idea of my true future profession. I cordially declined the nutritionist program and seriously explored what I want to do. I kept remembering that incident, the presence of the PA and absence of the doctor; I could not shake that recurring thought.
My entire life has witnessed turbulence, struggles, and excitement. Born in Iran to a working class family, my father a budding civil engineer and mother a teacher; we were migrating to USA, the land of opportunity in the thick of ‘September 2001’. How my parents managed in those days and were
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Last year, in October during the cheerleader’s concert, that my mom and dad were singing at, I asked, “Do you want to dance?” My mom said, “yes”. Walking out to dance, she fell and accidently tripped me and landed on my ankle. It felt as if someone was breaking my leg in half. It got really numb where I couldn’t feel it, but I still knew I was in some pain. Picking me up off the ground, my mom sat me on the bleachers. Everyone came over there and it was really embarrassing. My dad carried me to the car and we drove to the dollar store to buy me an icepack to put on it.
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
When I joined the military, I had absolutely no idea what I was getting myself into. It is one of the main reasons why I decided to join the Reserves and not Active duty. The other main reason was because I knew the Reserves would still pay for college while I was only active one weekend a month. Growing up in Killeen, Texas – I was right beside one of the largest Army post which is Fort Hood. I had a lot of friends whose parents were in the military, and two distant cousins who were also in the service. All I knew, (or thought I knew) was they had good money.
On February 13, 2018 at approximately 1803 hours, I was dispatched to the Walmart located at 8701 US HWY 19 Port Richey, FL in reference to a stolen wallet. Upon my arrival, I made contact with the complainant / victim, Delmarie Mangual. Delmarie advised she had been shopping at the store when her light colored rectangular wallet broke off of its strap after she had checked out. She advised the wallet fell without her noticing somewhere between the registers, the general merchandise exit of the store and her vehicle.
I speeded up, crossed the bridge, and headed north to Santa Clara. I was going to college. After so many years, I was still moving. Ten minutes later I finally saw it, the Santa Clara University.
I loved learning about the human body so much, that a about three months later, I went to Human Resources and asked if I could go into the Emergency Room. All I did was walk in right after school (which at the time was around 2:30 that I would get to Valley) with a smile, asked the secretary if I can talk to the one in charge of us volunteers, and asked permission if I could start volunteering at the Emergency Room. Lesley (the one in charge of the volunteers) said “absolutely.” She told her secretary that she was leaving for a few minutes and she brought me along. She took me though the radiology department to get into the emergency department. They showed me what to know and what to do. Then, she left minutes later. I was frozen and just watched what the nurses were doing. It was as if I stepped into a different world. A technician named Martha introduced herself to me. She helped me whenever I could not find something or if I was
It is finally Saturday and I get to catch up on all my absent work. But the sad news is that I had to stay at my late great grandmother's house on Friday to clean the house and get it ready for rituals. But it was not that tiring, but I came home at 5:30 am. And I fell asleep and woke up at 8:00 am. Then, I got ready for breakfast and made some orange juice and toasted bread. I left my house at 10 am and I has a hectic drive. So when I was entering the freeway this man shows up and starts to honk for 4 seconds straight for no reason. I found it strange because then he changed lanes and turned on his emergency lights and was driving. But after that I arrived at 2850 S El Camino Real, San Mateo, CA 94403 at 10:34 am. I called Sergeant Jin and
It was my Grandpa Buck his story changed his life. It was one beautiful afternoon my grandpa decided to go to the Drunken Bar and Grill after he was done with worked. He was going to meet his friend Peter there. They had a hamburger and some cold beer. After he was done at the Drunken Dar and Grill he went to another bar. He had some more beer and he got drunk and he had to call my grandma Judy to have her come pick him up. Then my grandpa decided that it was fun to go and party with his friends every Friday night. Then he said very quiet
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.
Day1: Today was my orientation day, I was given a green t-shirt with the champions logo on it to wear every sunday I volunteered for. I was expected to be there at 10:45. My hours were 10:45-12:30, 12;45 the latest depending on how long the service carried on for. When I come in I ought to watch over all the kids as they arrived one after the other. I had forms I had to take home and bring back in as well as a teacher handbook to complete.
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.
There was a small group of friends Jim, Mark, Tom, Mary, and Jane. They were all going on a vacation to a cabin up in the Himalayan Mountains. Marks parents owned a cabin up there for many years and they decided to let the group stay for the weekend. All they had to do was promise to not do drugs and break stuff. This wouldn’t be a big deal since all of them were in their senior year of college and were honors students.
The sweet, potent aroma of cinnamon scented broom sticks fills the room as a toffee colored chihuahua barks it’s larynx off--that’s how I know I’m at my mema’s house. My mema resides in a small cottage two hours away from my house, but her house feels like more of a home than mine ever has.