Personal Narrative-Tuberculosis

breath hitching. I tried to push myself up on the wall, only to fall over. Dirt smeared across my face, and

“Father,” I screamed. (Wiesel 96) A man's hands locked around my neck leaving me breathless. I struggled to move trying to yell for help, but no sound had come out except the sound of gasps for air. I looked into his eyes, deep into a mad man's eyes. I let a loud yelp and my father rushed over trying to get the man off of me, but my father was to weak. My father yells for someone to help him. Finally the man let go off the grip had noticed after the minutes without air I finally felt the pressure on my neck release. I laid there taking in as much air I could take, and my face that was red slowly perished. My father came back as himself and looked over at me with a surprised look on his face. I do not think he know what happened, so I will not bring it up to him.

The opening statement in the documentary, “Unnatural Causes”, reads, “Is inequality making us sick?”. The documentary “Unnatural Causes” focuses on the high rate of tuberculosis (TB) among the native people of the Marshall Islands, which are located in the Pacific. The TB rate in the Marshall Islands is 23 times that of the United States. TB is very contagious and affects most people who come into contact with it because it is an airborne illness. The common symptoms of TB are a chronic cough, chills and fevers, and it can infect other internal organs.

This outbreak was both surprising and overwhelming, for hospitals and families because there was a lot of uncertainty that surrounded the treatment of this outbreak. The article explains the disparities in this situation, because tuberculous should not have been claiming all of those innocent lives. This caught the attention of Walsh McDermott, “an expert in the treatment of TB” (Jones, 2002, p.750). Treatment of those who feel ill was important, however it couldn’t simply stop

her chest was combated with the gentle touch of a hand splayed across Jane’s cheek. Her

My body started to shiver. I could feel no warmth even from his comfort. My bones were chilled, which begun to cause my muscles to tense. My breathing became laborious, while this mountainous elevation did not help.

A wicked grin ghosted Amy's pale lips at the strangers' description to whoever listened to the other side of his comm. Eyes worthy of her name fixated on the weapon poised in her direction, her gaze shifted momentarily as he requisitioned information from the VDT " Don't fret about infection; I simply borrowed an inconsequential amount of blood platelets, as you were the closest source in conjunction to vivificating me " Her tone was calm as well as collected in an almost professional manner given the circumstances. Pausing briefly to inhale a couple deep breaths. It was then that she noticed a slight draft against her skin as her body temperature elevated faintly. Glancing down it dawned on her that upon entering the cryogenic pod she had stripped of all attire, save for the body jewelry that glinted from her bosom ( resembling two skeletal hands formed to cover each nipple), lip, as well as vaguely pointed ears. A large purplish scar resembling a lightning strike reached from just below her collarbone stretching up towards the base of her throat. The only other adornment that graced her alabaster skin was a modest, shimmering, obsidian colored tattoo in an old forgotten language that encircled her wrist.

Tuberculosis is a deadly disease that is now affecting our world and the people living in it in a horrible way. Due to many factors such as poverty, HIV/AIDS, and lack of health care, many third world and developing countries have been left very vulnerable to tuberculosis. It is affecting a large part of these countries and is leading them deeper into poverty and sickness. The effort to help these countries against tuberculosis has only been slightly effective against this widespread and destructive disease.

Her strength seemed leaving her as quickly as the air became progressively thicker around her and heavier into her lungs. Despite her protesting muscles, she tried to shift one last time while her eyelids fluttered shut as she was laying helplessly on the bed, trapped and condemned to what would certainly be her last sleep.

I slid down to my knees trying to catch my breath, eyes shut. With my other hand, I wiped the sweat from my brow and waited for my senses to come back to me.

As the blood was dripping from Katherine neck I felt an oozing pain in my body. Looked over at Jacob, he smiled. My first drink of the year and I already felt guilt for what I had done. I didn’t like the new me, I didn’t like the way it made me feel. All my emotions were spinning in my head and my body I just can`t handle the

I furrow my eyebrows and try again, a little confused as to why I'm unable to move my tongue. After another failed attempt I deduce that it must be whatever they injected me with that hasn't worn off yet. A dry tickle works its way up my gullet, resting at the back of my throat. I cough, the sound scratchy against my ears. A moment later I feel warm liquid trickling into my mouth and I gag, suddenly choking on the thickly unidentifiable liquid burning down my throat. A siren starts whirling and my eyes widen as my brain starts screaming for oxygen, tears dripping down my

The last time I was ill or injured was this past December and I had a really case of whooping cough. I personally don’t like to be sick because being sick means that you have to sit out from activities. While being sick you always have that one person who watches over you and makes sure you have what you need. I got the privilege to eat in my room and stay in bed all day without disruptions or being told to get up. My mom also did everything for me; she brought me food, medicine, and things to drink to me in bed. She also was extra nice to me; she babied me in a way. My grandma on the other hand felt as if I should give myself medince and I shouldn’t have stayed in the bed all day. Because shes elder she has the mindset that you can “work

After I had overcome the violent coughing and had a trickle of blood going down my scarred chin, I had opened my eyes and propped my sore body up with my

Grappling at his hands, prying his fingers, scratching his hands, kicking like a madman, anything. Anything to stop the lack of air. My face grew red as an immense pressure over took my throat. I desperately clutched his hands and squeezed the air out of my lungs, “Please.” a fresh set of tears washed over me at the grating pain centralised at my throat. “Please.” An ache burned at my lungs. My eyes bulged out of their sockets as I wheezed for breath. Gasping, spluttering, like a fish out of water. My futile attempts regained in strength. Fear urging me on. Every reach, every kick, more desperate than the last. The ache was no longer an ache, but an unbearable burning sensation. Black dots traced at the edges of my eyes. Creeping closer and closer. Threatening to snatch away my