Summary Of Joseph Autobio's Two Even Beller

The ride home was much different than the ride to the hospital, Mrs. Girroir reminisced about all the good and the bad times they shared. She told me how he served in the U.S. Army during the Korean War and got several Medals of Honor. She told me the story of how they met in Honduras while he was stationed there. She grinned as she explained how he told her father he would marry her before they even spoke to one another. He was a very confident man, very romantic, yet stubborn and sarcastic. I glanced in the rearview mirror at the girls and saw them smiling listening intently to their mothers stories. The mood was no longer melancholy but lighthearted almost mirthful. We attended the funeral, Janice and I. We had become a part of their family, experienced both sorrow and pain alongside them.

And then, the day I had feared of most, finally arrived. We lost our father, the only figure I truly felt safe with. After months of mourning and painful transformations, our mother fell sick. In those terrible days, days during which I was locked in the basement most of the time, for my safety and even more: for the safety of my family, I was incapable of helping. To this, I regret even today.

Life was amazing and wonderful for a time being. My family was whole and put together. We had just moved into a house on Circle Road in Worland, Wyoming. I remember the house quite well before my parents had done any work to it. There were bird cages, pecked out doors, other animal cages, stains of all sorts, and holes in cracks in the walls and ceilings. It was quite the piece of work to say the least! Renovations were tedious and awful, but all the hard work would pay off in the end. Building the house up to my family’s expectations took awhile, but it was worth every second of it. Time flew by during my childhood in that house. I remember one day taking a trip over to the fish hatchery in the canyon. Other days we would spend at my grandpa’s house visiting him. We would attend as a family social events and parties. Life was pretty amazing. To say the least things were going quite well in the Boltz household. Furthermore, there were three things that changed me and my life when my dad died.

I vividly remember that chilly night in March as I walked out of Fifer, the building my father now calls home, for the first time. I had goosebumps, but they were not from the cold I felt hit my skin. Instead, they were from the sickness in my stomach. As I got in the car, I began to cry and had to stop myself from running back inside. My entire world had turned upside-down. How could I go home without my father? How could I leave him in a nursing home, a place where he was too young and mentally fit to be confined? I had to fight the feeling that he didn’t belong. I had to remind myself of why he chose to be there, and I hated it.

Sitting in the back of the car with my younger brother and sister memories started coming back. I could hear the water from the river in mexico in my head. The voice of my cousin yelling and the laughter of my uncle. The crying of my baby cousin and the sound of cooking food. Then the funny feeling came back. I missed mexico, the air was fresh, the water was clear and the weather was nice. The shining sun reflecting off the water and the warm fresh air running across the flesh of people's bodies . The

My introduction to medicine began when I was twelve, and my grandfather was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s Dementia. At the time, my family had just moved to Florida, while he remained in Puerto Rico. Every visit back was a new rung on the ladder of his descent into dementia, with him remembering less and less of me, my siblings, and my parents. His death came abruptly, but brought catharsis, acceptance, and the celebration of all our memories with him. He is a constant source of motivation and inspiration to become a doctor.

At the age of two, my mother left my two-month-old sister and me in the care of my 72-year-old Grandmother before she came to the United State in pursuit of a better life for herself and her family. My grandmother saw this opportunity as a great reward; the only thing that hindered her was her severe arthritis. Throughout the eight years ,which I spent with my grandmother, I witnessed her rise up early at dawn screaming over pains in her legs, she has fallen numerous times and had to be taken to the emergency room, and have gone from doctor to doctor in search of a cure. For this reason, I have chosen is to become a Physician. The ordinary man has within them, the desire to do good,and I despise seeing decent people, who work as hard as everyone else but does not get to experience life because of a disease.

While visiting them in the hospital, I remember that the nurses who took care of them always let us go back to see them and were explicit on how and what they were doing. For example, a nurse took the time explain how the burns had to be cleaned in order to keep the risk of infection down. She explained that it was very painful and not something that people enjoy. My grandma had serious burns all the up her left arm and the doctors explained to her than as life goes on she will have a scar and unfortunately suffer from pain. In addition, my uncle had burns on his legs and back and he still suffers and as for both of them they have to cover up the burned areas, so it does not sunburned. To this day my grandma and uncle still have pain, just as the doctor said back in 2004. Now my grandpa was not as badly burned, but due from the smoke inhalation as he was already pretty sick before this happened, the doctors informed us that it did due damage to his lungs and in 2006, he did pass away. The healthcare system, the doctors, and the nurses were are very sympathetic, showed passion when working with my family members, and always informed us of their status. Knowing that my grandparents and uncle were in such good hands made me feel at ease and I knew that the treatment they were getting would make them

Communication gathering will be more difficult and possibly found out indirectly. First understand and research the culture. Second all questions should be to the oldest in the family, in this case the grandfather. Allow the family to save face and never point blame. Gain the families trust that they will at least open up and talk to you, although Dr. Hocoy states, “It is, however, important to lead with regard to the direction of therapy and spell out expectations the clinician has of the client. This is different than being confrontational…” (Diller 14) So in this case letting the grandparents know what information you need to help them is required.

That morning I woke up to the beautiful Florida sunshine shining down through my curtains. A bunch of friends, family, and I had stayed in a condo in Panama City that week. It was a week filled with smiles and laughter. Yet not knowing that those smiles would simply turn to frowns later on and the laughter to tears.

My grandparents on my mother's side had come to see me in kendallville. They drove me and my brother back with them to Texas to stay with them for awhile. Our journey across the country would begin the next day.

The day was like no other, but with a twist. As I walked through the chilly North Carolina air my mom told me we were moving to Georgia to be closer to my grandma and auntie. Me being a little kid only the age of 6 was excited that I was moving until I realized I had to leave my best friend Mary-Ann.

    It wasn’t until the day that the final exam was available that all of my hard work and dedication was put in jeopardy. My grandfather, age 83, had been admitted into the hospital that day. As the week went on, it became more and more evident that he would no longer be able to function independently. On August 2nd, my grandpa was

When there was 2 days till we left, we all was very excited and all were packing up our clothes into bags and suitcases. We packed our snakes and charged up our tablets so we would be ready. I can remember how hard it was to fall asleep that night, it was like I drunk 10 cups of coffee because how excited we were. The morning had finally came we all woke up very early so we would have everything ready to pack into the car and not leave anything behind. We were all waiting for my grandparents show up and pick us up so the road trip could begin. When they finally arrived we all helped load the car and off we were. The road trip was very excited we saw things that we haven’t seen before, in fact, it was the

I was supposed to go camping that evening, but little did I know that I was going to be spending the next three days in a hospital fearing for my brother’s life. This is my story about the scariest moment in my life, when my brother was on the edge of dying.