During my final years of elementary school I began to notice that something was off. I realized that the adults around me, especially teachers, treated me differently than all the other children and students. It wasn’t until the start of middle school that I figured it all out. I remember sitting down with my Mother and chatting about the absurd topic. She appeared distraught and reluctant when I asked her why everyone I knew treated me like I was some fragile thin pane of glass.…
In the course of my life, I have had quite a few scars. One physical scar was when I tripped, and landed on a rock, and cut my forehead. But the most memorable, was when I was eight years old, I was hurt when I accidentally landed on a table after being hit by a pillow. As a result, I had a wide open cut on the top of my head near my forehead from the landing. I was scarred for life. This was my second scar after I had the former at an earlier age.…
Here we are in the hospital. I’m so excited. Today is the day that I’m getting a little sister. Everyone is excited. Presents cover every surface of the hospital room. There’s everything from buzzy bees - to the new Barbie Rapunzel…
“We all stray from time to time….and when you do, OWN IT! If you deny it….you are giving up control again.” This can teach a lesson to people struggling with drugs and alcohol. If you deny that you have a problem, you will continue to let these things control your life, but if you own up to it, you can help yourself or get help from others. The quote, from the “I don’t know the Bible…” paragraph, “‘Well done, my good and faithful servant,”’ reflects what I believe in and what I have learned. Growing up I heard many people tell me, “God first, others second, and yourself last.” First of all, these two quotes are telling me to live a faithful life by putting God first. Also, to put others before me and serve them just like Jesus did.…
I always keep this poem and picture in my wallet. I take it everywhere with me because it means quite a lot to me in two very different ways. One of those ways is because it holds sentimental value. When I was younger I learned to read very late in life and I was always so embarrassed of that. My father knew that I was struggling and bought me the book, Where the Sidewalk Ends. It is a book full of poems and little pictures written by Shel Silverstein. I remember opening the book to ta random page, and it was the page with this poem. I then remember my dad asking me to read it to him. I was so uncomfortable, even thought I was just going to be reading to my dad. He gave me some words of encouragement, and even thought I was not able to read…
At 12:30 at night on June 1, 2015, my life would soon change forever. I was pregnant with my first child and my water had just broken. My mom rushed me to the hospital where I was immediately put in a private room, in the hospital bed where I was about to deliver my first child, a son. He came so quickly (5 & 1/2 hours in total) and I had requested no pain medications and turned it down on several occasions as the medical staff pleaded with me to use it. The pain began to become more and more unbearable, so much so that I honestly felt paralyzed from my waist down. My body was taking over to my surprise and I was just there with my legs in stirrups. They seemed immovable and with the pains coming faster, it is as if they stopped receiving any of the signals my brain was sending to them.…
time for me to begin my 10 minute warming up. I move my head side to side, stretch my legs, and I begin to walk briskly. I drank my water because I need to stay hydrated. When I was ready I sprinted out like a rocket. My brother began to time me. It took me 12 minutes to finish my one mile. Once I felt that my heart was pounding, my stomach started to develop painful cramps, and my My throat was as dry as a bone. I stopped and took deep breaths in and out. I took a five minute break and finished my 3 miles by walking. Once I finished my three miles I felt proud of myself and motivated for the next days to…
August 9th, 1998 was the day when my fight and formation as a person began. My mother was rushed to Piedmont Hospital, in panic, because I was eager to be born exactly two months before my due date. I was born at a whopping four pounds and five ounces, which terrified the doctors as well as my parents. After being held by my mother for only 30 seconds, I was seized from her arms and taken to the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit of the hospital. I was placed on a ventilator because I was not breathing properly. Within six hours, I yanked out the breathing tubes only to have then put back inside me. Much my chagrin, I pulled the uncomfortable tubes out for a second time, and the doctor’s determined that I was strong enough to live without them. Despite…
The misty September air froze against my skin; at least, it felt like it did. As we walked along the river, I debated the effectiveness of a faking an injury. Perhaps, then we would finally take a break. Although, It is far more likely we would continue to shuffle on, herded by orange traffic cones and dreary-eyed volunteers. Even now, years later, I still marvel at the fact the race starts at 8:00 AM. Whoever supplied the idea must not have recognized the pain it would cause my nine year-old self. Nevertheless, as we marched through downtown Portland, I felt a distinct similarity to the toy soldiers my brother had been so fond of. While we were disorganized and reckless, we walked quietly, with a common urgency. The comparison could also…
Writing has never been easy for me. In school, I have always had good grades. Some subjects came naturally like biology, history, and even math. Over time I have learned, that writing is a process. It takes patience and skill. Ever since writing my first major paper in the eighth grade, I gained a better understanding and appreciation for writing.…
“I’m not going to bring weapons here Arnold,” I explain to him, hating the check through process he used on me.…
This was the response I got after telling a patient, on a medical mission trip, that I understood it was difficult for her to buy fresh toothbrushes regularly. I learned the hard way never to tell someone that you understand their situation because everyone’s situation is unique to them. Based on my experiences, being humble does not mean sympathizing with other people’s struggles, but rather stands for being fully present while interacting with people with no motivation besides compassion.…
Week six was another amazing week that brought new experiences to my plate. On Wednesday evening, my clinical instructor and I ran Sr. Barn Buddies. This is a group of six teenagers that have autism. These individuals are great, but need help with appropriate social interactions and some personal care. Four boys and two girls attend the one and a half hour session every Wednesday evening. I was not really sure how to feel about doing this session because some of them can have behaviors and they are twice my size. These kids were awesome! They each seem to be somewhere different on the spectrum and all have something to offer to one another. These kids need help with socializing with each other, when they are at school or in the community. We worked on a project together, making sail boats that we could have a discussion about. If one of them needed help with part of it, they had to ask nicely. They could ask Duane or myself for help or ask one another for help. It was pretty neat to see them ask questions, offer advice and for myself to witness the positive interaction throughout the evening.…
I headed to my first class which just so happened to be my favorite subject, English. The hallways were very wide but when filled with students I felt like I had to shove my way through just to get to my locker. The lockers were a mixture between Gray and purple. The school colors were supposed to be purple and silver but there was no way that these lockers could be considered. I took a look at the little piece of paper that the lady in the office had given me and tried out the combination on my locker. It took me about five minutes to open it and after struggling for that long I was a little irritated so when it did open, it flew open and slammed into the locker next to mine. I held my breath and hoped that nobody had noticed. I took a long deep breath and slowly opened my eyes again. Luckily I was still standing alone and nobody around was looking at me. I put my extra books and notebooks into the locker and and closed it as quietly as I could.…
I felt this sense of fear, but I knew it was just nervousness. It caused my whole body to tremble. I creeped onto the field and pass by the fifty girls and all of the coaches. Just me walking by everyone gave me this ginormous knot in my stomach, it made me feel like I was going to pass out right on the field. I was breathing heavy, like I just ran a marathon. I was beyond nervous just to be the new girl on the field. I was scared of what the girls thought of me, and how the coaches thought I would play and adapt to the sport. I had never even picked up a lacrosse stick and the girls were passing, catching and shooting on goal: how does a new player get to there if they were two week late into the season? I was terrified I would never get to the level of the rest of the team.…