So I went and met with my whole family. My cousin had just come in from New Jersey, and I was excited to see him. Over mashed potatoes and the smell of turkey cooking, the subject of my glasses came up, probably provoked by my pupils which were still enormous. We joked about it, and talked about the scores of geeks, famous people, and world changers that had glasses. Steve Jobs, Bill Gates, Teddy Roosevelt, Harry Truman, Harry Potter, John Lennon, Elton John, Mohandas Gandhi all wore glasses. These were the people that I aspired to be like, that I looked up to, that I thought were amazing. I would be joining their ranks! And so, I wasn’t
We’ve all been here before. The doctor asks you to cover one eye, and read a line of completely random letters. It’s supposed to be easy, but when I was in first grade, I couldn’t even see the large “E” on the top. Humiliated, I watched as my doctor wrote a prescription for glasses, and a few years later, contact lenses. Without my glasses, I was essentially blind, and often humiliated, as I called people by the wrong name because I couldn’t make out their face or wrote with my face inches from the paper, unable to see the words. But as soon as I put my glasses on, and looked through the lenses, I was able to see again, and my humiliation ended.
When I was three years old, I got my first pair of glasses. Convinced that I could see, I reluctantly went to the optometrist with my mom, and did my best to be as uncooperative as possible. This continued until the optometrist brought out a shiny blue ring and said that I could have it if I did well on all of my tests. I was determined to get the ring. At the optometrist, they provide pictures for young children to identify, in place of letters. My mother tells me that I said that an airplane was a birthday cake. Needless to say, I needed glasses, badly. Later that week, I went home with a brand new pair of pink circular glasses. When I got home I was shocked to learn that there were lines in the grass. Now it is fourteen years later, and
While me and my mom were waiting on Dr. Amanda to come back with the test and to tell us what she had seen from the scans of my eyes, my mom and I were talking. My mom asked me,” Tay, honey what can you not see?” I told my mom what I couldn’t and could see. I finally came out and told her I have been having trouble seeing to read, seeing the stuff on the board at school, and watching Tv. My mom started asking me questions like “how long has this been going on” or “why ain’t you told me before now?” I looked at her and said, “Because, Momma, I’m scared. You know I love to read that’s all I do, and I’m afraid I can’t read anymore, I’m afraid I’ll go blind and can’t do anything that I like. And that I won’t have any friends anymore.” Dr. Amanda came back and said, “We are sending you to UVA in Charlottesville to have more test done, they are more enhanced and they hadthe technology that we do not have in Wytheville.” A few weeks later my eye doc called Momma and told Momma that I had a disease in my eyes called Stargardts and that they weren’t sure what it was so, they set up an appointment up at
In July I was having problems with my vision and decided to go to the optometrist about it. Now, it’s important that I say how much eyes FREAK ME OUT. They’re squishy and odd and I hate when people touch them, so naturally I was nervous about the eye appointment. “You’ll be fine Anne Marie, it’s just an eye appointment.” my mother said to me. After what seemed like an eternally long car ride, we reached the optometrist office. Once we checked in and reached the eye exam room The doctor numbed and dilated my eyes, so that she could check my eye pressure and look into my eyes. After the tests the doctors explained to me that my left eye is 20/20 and my right eye is very nearsighted. The optometrist decided to send me to the hospital because they
I remembered that my mom was legally blind and in the situation that I was in I know have a fake left eye I have no depth perception I don’t have any peripheral vision also to make things worse my right eye is not the best in the world. Now at the time I was thinking that maybe it wasn’t so bad after all until I stumped my toe three different times that is when it started to get pretty darn annoying and it hurt. I learned that being mom is pretty darn hard. Plus I still have to can all the fruits and all the veggies. It was about 12:30 when I realized that I still had two more gallons of persimmons to make into pulp. This is when I understood why mom drank so much
Being biracial is such a unique experience and has a lot to do with the person I am today. Growing up, I did not completely realize how it would shape me as a person. Now that I am older and looking back on past experiences, I know exactly how it has impacted me. There were many times where I felt uncomfortable and confused, because I was different. That has all changed now that I recognize that the differences are what make people beautiful.
This story i’m going to talk about is true and personal to me and this does have a trigger warning. In 2015, when i was about to be a sophomore, I felt useless and no one really understood what i was going through. 1) Warning signs experienced before the attempt; 2) What experienced (after attempt) when hospitalized; 3) How/ways you cope now.
I really enjoy reading. I started from a young age, and was always surrounded by reading material. I took it up as a hobby once I started kindergarten, and it has been part of my life ever since.
So then I go, and find Mrs. Price and tell her, ¨The red sweater wasn't mine. I knew adults weren't right all the time.¨ So I yell at the top of my lungs to Mrs. Price, ¨YOU BELIEVE ALL THE STUDENTS AND YOU ALWAYS YELL AT ME, I WISH YOU NEVER TEACHED HERE, I JUST WANT TO PUNCH YOU IN THE FACE.” Then Mrs. Price tells me to go to the office. So I stomp my feet on the floor ,and go to the office. When I get into Mr. BobbyJoe’s office i talk to him and tell him what had happened. He says to me, “Now Rachel I know how you feel if I were you I would do the same thing. So what i want you to do is to go and tell Mrs. Price your sorry while I go and call your parents then come back.” So I go back to the class room and tell Mrs. Price that I was
From the moment I could, I read. Of course, during kindergarten I started by only understanding Spanish, so reading took a little longer for me to comprehend. But over time, I did learn to speak and read through the English language and for a long time, reading was my escape. Being able to invite myself into the author’s world of emotions, thoughts, and ideas was the ideal situation. From wanting to leave my world and delve into another, I became passionate about, nay, obsessed with reading.
My love reading began somewhere around early kindergarten, when I discovered that I could read ‘Click Clack Moo, Cows that Type” flawlessly to my parents and brother. I read it every single night and made everyone listen (even the cat). Books helped me soar through elementary school. The stories allowed me to live life that didn't belong to me. It was
i apologized about this , I didn't realize it was that many hours he, but I know there would be some over time this week we had couple of incident , the day we had to do Eric and ken write-up I had him site in both , also the Sunday training added to it , he also went over Tuesday when we did the Ops meeting , this is not the norm I will keep the hours in check
Reading has been one of my favorite hobbies since I was a little child. I grew up as a normal child should grow and eventually I had to start learning for me to fit in society. My literacy started many years ago, after I knew how to talk and communicate with people. Reading my alphabet was quite stressful and I had to be given a hand by my family members. I remember my parents reading with me and it was the most meaningful and memorable way to spend time with me. This is because I liked reading a lot and I was eager to learn so that I could fit in with my older siblings. My favorite books were storybooks taking about adventures and fairytales
“Are you listening?” My religion teacher asked me for the third time that day. I am listening, I thought, to the cacophony of my digestive tract. Of course I’d long known that I was playing host to a massive collection of parasitic organisms, but I didn’t much like being reminded of it. By cell count, humans are approximately 50% microbial, meaning that about half of the cells that make you up are not yours at all. There are something like a thousand times more microbes living in my particular biome than there are humans on the earth. I wiped my sweaty palms on my jeans and tried to control my breathing. Admittedly, I have some anxiety problems, but I would argue it isn’t irrational to be concerned about the fact that you are a skin-encased