Personal Narrative: My Father's Surgery

I had been cringing about day for so long. I was completely terrified to go into that room. As the door opened I was exposed to a cold draft and I could feel the dense air. The day I was told this needed to be done was horrifying, and now it’s actually happening. They rolled me over to a new bed and I looked around seeing doctors everywhere. There was a table that they rolled next to me and on it was things that I can’t even explain. They put a green mask on me with tubes going through both sides of it. They told me I’d get drowsy and all of the sudden I closed my eyes and it was happening. I was getting knee surgery.

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,

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

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

Once I got in the car, my mother started one of her many lectures, “You do understand that we cannot be late for a surgery, they will not hesitate to reschedule you”, I replied as usually with a, “Yes ma’am”. I then noticed that we had already started our excursion towards the Mobile Infirmary Center at the Orthopedic Group. Upon our arrival my mother told me to go ahead and check myself in while she parked the car. As I approached the doors a feeling of anxiety started to crawl its way into my body. The doors then proceeded to swooshed open as if anticipating me. I was instantly bombarded with a cool breeze, which

We approached the dark brown desk, holding anxiety that it had waiting for us, we told the lady what our names were and why we were there, she walked us to his room in the ICU where 2 of our other family members were waiting. The first person I saw was my uncle’s girlfriend, Cathy, her long, jet black usually smooth hair was tousled as if she had been pulling at it for hours, which looking back now.. She probably was. Across the cold, dark, and depressing hospital room that had a strong odar of sadness and clorox, I saw my sister, Karen who had a flushed face and mascara down her face which held a sad smile towards us. Finally, I directed my attention towards the cold, uncomfortable, bleached bed that held my bruised, and struggling uncle.

“Right this way,” the nurse ahead of me was prompting me to a brightly lit hall that was completely foreign to me. I couldn’t help but be terrified by the sights and sounds around me: people chattering, machines methodically beeping, gurneys rushing past. It was my first time in a hospital and my eyes frantically searched each room looking for any trace of my father. She stopped suddenly and I turned to the bed in front of me but I could not comprehend what I saw. At such a young age, I idolized my father; I had never seen him so vulnerable. Seeing him laying in a hospital bed unconscious, surrounded by wires and tubes was like witnessing Superman encounter kryptonite. My dad’s car accident not only made him a quadriplegic, but also crippled

One night as I searched for my mother, my dad told me she was not feeling like herself. My dad told me to let her rest that night and I could talk to her the following morning. As I started to wake up the next morning my father was sitting at the foot of my bed and informed me I’d be spending the day with my Aunt Michelle because my mother had a doctor’s appointment. I could not wrap my head around why I would not be attending this appointment but had attended all the others. Later that evening once again both my parents came into my room but this time without smiles. With a shaky voice my mom began to tell me she had been diagnosed with Preeclampsia and her illness was progressing quickly. Now with tears running down her face she continued

I opened my eyes and they were crusty with sleep on the sides of them. The nurse came in again and I said, " Good Morning," and my eyes grew huge because I realized I could speak again. She replied, " good morning, you can sit up now but both of your legs are broken, along with your right arm." She helped me sit up and said," also there are some people here to see you. They have been very worried for you." I asked her if I had received any recent calls, she said, " yes, only one. From the prison." It was him. My dad. He had gone to prison 3 years ago for hurting my mom and selling drugs. I hadn't seen him or talked to him since the day he was taken

I fought the thoughts of not being able to breathe and allowing myself to have a panic attack. I have never been very religious, but it got to a point where counting didn’t help and the moment that destroyed my health replayed over and over. It was the few seconds prior to blacking out, to when I looked up at my rearview mirror and saw a truck coming right for me because he fell asleep. These thirty minutes of darkness symbolized the endless emotional and physical pain I had endured and my return to the darkness, which I cannot explain. So I prayed, hoping that even though I couldn’t remember all the verses, it would end the spinning and the torture. These moments of fear were more than claustrophobia; it was also a concoction of sadness. Sadness, that uncovered my weak and fragile human being self to the world because I had still not healed. As these thoughts deepened, the bed of the MRI machine began to move outward and I knew it was over. I hadn’t realized that my body was trembling until they took the thick white sheet off me. It revealed my shaking legs covered in Goosebumps and so, I pulled my fuzzy green socks up and with their help got off the bed. I wondered if that’s what it was like to live through a traumatic event or was it me being dramatic? Either way, I shut the door leaving the loud and terrible noises behind me. As I walked out, I could never see myself laying in that room again, unable to escape the endless

As I was picked up the bad thoughts started to run through my head again, this time it seem like it was worse. The closer we got to the hospital the more I became weak. I didn 't know what to expect to be honest. I tried to prepare myself for the worse. As we entered the hospital and went to the emergency room, I walked into a lobby full of family, as I walked in my brother got me up to date with what’s going on. So I sat there patiently with my family, we all waited with anticipation for the doctor to deliver the news. As hours passed we finally got to talk to a nurse. She told us that the doctor would be coming out soon to get us updated with what’s wrong with my dad. When he finally came out he told us that everything was going to be okay, but if my dad would have came two minutes later he would have died. Man oh man that hit us all hard. But he also told us

My time in the hospital was such a haze, in what felt like a day or so a total of was 2 weeks had passed. Going home was a strange feeling since I had almost forgot what home was being gone so long from it. When the doctor had removed the wrapping around my head, it was like all the memory of the event had been released at once. The story of how my sister had dug her nail in my eye and subsequent reenactment. I never expected to have my sight be scared by such a close person and fro them to repeat their action twice. I was in my room that Thursday afternoon having just come back from school I was placing my backpack to the side when it happened.

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

It was early one sunny saturday, usually when I wake up. It was very windy. The trees were shaking back and forth. The sun was so dimm it did not light up the sky at all.Somewhere behind us was cars in the background for a long time, and itdidn't stop. I could hear them from under my fuzzy blanket. And then a coyote joined in. They sang out cars, and coyotes for a long time. Then their sounds faded away like a quiet dream.

My father and brother are very far out in the deep waters searching for seashells and any aquatic life swimming through the warm, ocean waters. Back on the shore, my mother, my sister, and I are tanning and reading magazines that we grabbed at the hotel. On the cover of the magazine in bold letters it says “SURGERY.” It reminds me of the day Mother got her surgery. She and Father left very early that morning to drive to Apple Hill Surgical center. My parents warned us to behave and that my sister was in charge for the day. My brother and I would have to behave or we