Personal Note On The Worst Nightmare Of My Life

In the fall of 2012, my mother almost succumbed to her illness. I had just begun my freshman year of high school midst angry conversations between my parents and the threat of separation. It would seem as if they bickered about the most irrelevant things, almost as if they had no other reason to fight other than the fight itself. Those moments were excruciatingly lonely, my father worked until the dead of night and my mother would come home exhausted from treatment. I now know that there was no one who felt more unvalued than my mother. I wish I had the ability to iron away this blunder that destiny had fabricated, however foolish this desire is.

I sat there in my room with tears flowing down my blush pink cheeks. Wondering what was wrong with me, as a salty tear ran along my dried out chapped lips. I thought to myself,” Why am I so miserable? What did I do to deserve this? How am I going to escape this life?” I started to ponder that this was the end of my life, this is how I was going to be, sorrowful. At the lowest point of my life, mother came barging through the door with the look of cavernous concern on her face. She knew that it was time for something to be done, whether I agreed or not.

That day when I returned home from school, my mom’s boyfriend called me asking to speak to my grandmother. Typically, Gus would call my grandmother himself if he wanted to speak with her, which was rare. I found out about my mom going to the hospital from my grandmother after that phone call. The doctor told my family that a stroke afflicted her in the middle of the day. My mom confused the date with her birthday, had trouble getting words out and remembering our family member’s names. The nurse had to take her for walks periodically and exercise her legs and arms because they were weak. Seeing my mother in this condition made me appreciate my mother and everything she does for me tremendously. However, I was terrified for my mother’s health.

I walked away feeling like I was a complete failure and that I didn’t deserve to go on. On the way home my mother tried to talk to me, but, I put on my headphones and cried silently. Once we were home my father asked how it went. The tears that were in my eyes and they became more evident as my shoulders and chest were shaking and trembling. The only sound in the room was the sound of me crying and wailing. I started crumbling and falling to the ground and my mother and father rushed to my side. They held me until the tears came to a stop and a little bit afterwards

Life changed for us once again when a woman named Martha came into our lives. Martha was a retired geriatric nurse who worked part time as a home caregiver. With me preparing to head off to college several states away in the fall, Martha was hired to care for my mother. Though I was excited to get some time off from my usual responsibilities, I was anxious to allow someone else to care for the most important person in my life. It took me months to learn to trust her, but her sweet, confident demeanor and the exceptional way she cared for my mother finally won me over. After one exceptionally hard day tending to my mother, Martha found me crying. I poured my heart out to her, lamenting all the difficulties and stress in my life, and wondering at why God had chosen to give us this life instead of something easier. Martha had simply taken my hand and looked me firmly in the eye. She told me that God never gave us more than what we could handle. She assured me that my suffering would only help me in the long run, molding me into a stronger more capable

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

Five days had passed this time since anyone had heard from my mother. I remember praying to God to protect her from harm and for me to find her. The next day she showed up, but not in the way we had hoped. One morning as I was getting ready for school my sophomore year in high school, my phone rang to the voice of my stepfather. My stepfather had told me he heard a call come over the dispatch scanner at his work and my mother’s name was mentioned. The sheriff had informed my stepfather that my mother had been involved in an accident. My stepfather asked me to go to the emergency room and see what condition my mother was in because he lived a half hour away from the hospital. When I arrived at the hospital I found my mother cut out of her clothes, covered in her own urine, massive amounts of blood all over her body, and lying lifeless on life support on the table. At this point, no one knew whether my mother would be okay. My mother had bleeding on the brain as well as a tear in her shoulder, a shattered face, and a chest tube draining fluid from her lung which had collapsed. All I could do was pray! My mother’s life was in God’s hands now. Three days later she woke

Wiping my tears from my wrinkled face, I put together all the pieces. It was like I just received a huge slap to the face, how did I not see this before? I clutch onto the diary, knowing it holds what my family went through behind closed doors. This ugly truth is the reality that I have been missing.

My life is surrounded by grief. Since I was a little, my mother diagnosed with Crohn’s Disease. At the time, she was the only woman in Thailand who had it. Various years passed, she finally found a hospital that could treat her symptom accordingly. Going in and out of the hospital like it was another house, as well as seeing my mother in deep pain, making me physically and mentally unhealthy. Three months later, my father diagnosed with Liver Cirrhosis and a development of a cancer cell in his liver. Both of my parents remain extremely anemic as a result of taking medicines such as steroid for years. Wistfully, I have to live with the nightmare of losing them one day while I am abroad.

Unexpectedly, my father called and with an unsteady voice explained, “I had to take your mother to the emergency room, and she is now being admitted to the hospital.” At age 13, this phone call began the most dreadful time of my life. Prior to this event, I was exceedingly dependent on my parents and even struggled with separating from them. In the beginning of my mother’s hospital stay, my familymy parents and two, younger sisters were constantly divided. My father stayed in the hospital with my mother, while my sisters and I would switch between caring family members and friends. Eventually I grew tired of different environments and decided that staying home alone was the far better option. As a result, I appreciate independence and know how to solely maintain a home.

On January 5, 2009 my father pasted away. He and I did not have the typical father-son relationship; we did not have a relationship at all. I presumed that it would have a little if any affect on me. However, as the semester continued, it seemed to get worse. Besides my father’s passing, several weeks later my grandmother was diagnosed with dementia. It was difficult for me to deal with, but it was more difficult for my mother to handle.

She lost her leg, has had two major heart attacks, and a stroke. Around that time the doctors instructed her to start saying her goodbyes. Her heart was going into congestive heart failure, and was pumping only 20 percent of the oxygen that it needed to be. Then I met Jesus. At youth one night, I received Jesus as my personal Lord and Savior. Over the month's I took care of my mother and the household. I slowly started praying for her, and to find out her heart was regaining function. The doctors were in total awe at her recovery. She was able to see me walk across the stage, and get my diploma. As I grew up, I learned, everything that happened to me in my childhood served me a great purpose. Even though I still act childish from time to time, and have a lot of room to mature, I believe it was my childhood that makes me the man I am today. As I graduated I had somehow was blessed with a second family over time. As I got involved in church and they became my second family. The worship leader is my father figure and his son is like my brother. Mr. Johniee (my father figure) has adopted Ruben and I. He treats us like his sons. We are sort of a trio known all of

I dreaded coming home, it was the worst thing I could imagine and as i grew the feeling didn’t change. I would get out of bed quietly not wanting to wake up my mother, my bruises are still healing from yesterday’s beatings. I go to my closet and put on a black, long-sleeved shirt to cover up the scars, a pair of jeans to cover the hurt and a pair of hand-me-down sneakers. I quickly tip-toe past my mom’s room, only to see her lying there, sound asleep with an empty wine glass slowly slipping out of her hand. I grab my book bag and walk out the door and to the bus stop. I walked through the hallways, to each class and I hear the nasty comments and the rumors, secretly believing every word they say. I walked to lunch a sit alone as people pull

When my family was traveling to United State, I realized the life had challenge me to make me survive. The first day was hurdle for me because I could not cook my foods, clean my home, iron my clothes etc. I was crying everyday when I remembered my mother because I acknowledged to all people that my mother had potential to do all that stuff. On the other hand, I could not do any of these things. At the same time I had a problem, which I could not find a driver, which could take me to my school until my father found someone to take me to my school by own car. His name is Aziz and he was kind to me. I admire my parents since they helped me and resolved any big problems that faced to me. When I missed my

As the end of the night approached us, I couldn’t stop thinking about how many mixed emotions I had about starting a whole new chapter in my life. I couldn't wait to go to college, meet all new people, get a degree so that I could start my career path, but I knew that meant I had to say goodbye to my two best friends, who were moving several hours away from me. This was one of the hardest things I had ever had to do in my life. We all cried a little, and then made promises to keep in touch, and then we were off into the real world! I was very happy to be at this point in my life, but I was scared deep down inside.