When I returned home from a mission trip in April of 2012 things didn’t seem the same. My body felt as if it had been run over by a herd of elephants. I looked like a balloon with the swelling that had taken over my body. I went to school for a week and then I could not return, I was in so much pain, I didn't know it was possible to feel like this. Little did I know this would be the rest of my life. Months after my mission trip, in the month of August in 2012 I was diagnosed with Fibromyalgia and Rheumatoid Arthritis, two painful diseases that I will live with for the rest of my life.
My mom picked me up late on the last night of my mission trip, and as soon I got home hours later I went straight to bed. The following morning when I awoke I was sore and didn't feel all that great, I figured I was just sore from all of the work we did. The soreness continued the next day and through the next few weeks, it also began to worsen. The pain I felt was excruciating in my back. The following week I was unable to attend school. As the pain continued my mom and I decided it would be best ...
My arm got so swollen and hurt so much that I was rushed into the hospital. The fear of not being able to write tormented me. I wondered if I would ever be able to pass out from the pain. After going to emergency, I came out with a cast in my arm. The doctors gave me some pain medications and I was going to get referred to therapy, I didn’t know what to expect. I wondered what would happen and if I would have to wake up the next day with the same pain or maybe even worse. The pain was a ten and it felt like my arm was burning, it was so unbearable that I couldn’t even move it. All these question came to my mind: "How will I eat?" Will I be able to sleep at night?" "How long will the pain last?" "Will I be sick in bed for days, weeks, months?" I was sick in bed for several months and I couldn’t write or go to school. I was so devasted because I had never been sick in bed for a long time. I started reading books since that was the only thing I could do. When I read books I would get inspired to write poetry but I would record myself. I remember reading catholic books my mom had but they were in spanish. I didn’t really know how to read spanish well but I tried my best. I figured I could learn spanish better by reading spanish books. I remember reading the Bible, and other prayer books that made me feel like I could escape from my sorrow. My love kept growing deeper for reading, and I had more ideas for
Shortly after I had learned to drive, my mother called me while I was at the store. She told me in an urgent voice that she was in a lot of pain and had to be taken to the doctor. I immediately left the store and drove my poor mother to the health center where she could be helped. After waiting for what seemed like forever, my mother was finally taken back to see the doctor. As it turned out, my mother had a condition that caused spasms of pain throughout the day. Despite the fact that she had this condition, she was given a minimal amount of Vicodin to get her through the agonizing pain. She suffered through the pain for weeks, and the medicine did little to help the spasms that shook her whole body. I watched her in despair. If it was the doctor’s job to help her, why didn’t he do anything to assuage her pain?
It seems unbelievable my oldest is a few days off being a decade old. I know every parent wonders “where has the time gone?” a multitude of times during their children’s childhoods, but as I realize my son is over halfway to 'adulthood' it seems like the time has flown by.
Almost four years ago, getting out of bed started becoming close to impossible. I slowly stopped caring. Headaches haunted my days, following me around like a shadow, never disappearing. I didn’t want to do anything, I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t bring myself to try anymore. A pain I cannot describe encased my heart, so tightly that I became numb to it.
When I was at school I broke my wrist. My friends and I were playing on the slide and I fell off into the dirt and landed on my wrist. When I heard “crack”, I knew something was wrong and needed to go tell the teacher. Holding my wrist I ran to Mrs.Kathy and told her that something was wrong with my wrist. We ran to the nurse because she thought it was severely damaged based on the way it was dangling. An ice pack was put on my wrist to control the swelling. My dad was given a phone phone call and was told that I had hurt my self on the playground. Rushing from work my dad was to coming get me and on the way he picked up my brother from high school, they later arrived at the elementary school. We hastily went to the emergency room because my wrist was getting sizeably larger. By the time we achieved our destination, my mom was waiting patiently for us.
It was June 6, 2011. I remember taking my mother to the County Hospital’s emergency room. She seemed extremely exhausted; her eyes were half-closed and yellow, and she placed her elbow on the armchair, resting her head on her palm. I remember it was crowded and the wait was long, so she wanted to leave. I was the only one there with her, but I did not allow her to convince me to take her home. I told her in Spanish, “Mom, let’s wait so that we can get this over with and know what’s going on with you. You’ll see everything is okay, and we’ll go home later on.” I wish then and now that would have been the case. Unfortunately, she was diagnosed with colon cancer that had spread to many parts of her body including her lungs and kidneys. The doctor said to me not considering that I was a minor and my mother’s daughter, “Her disease is very advanced and we don’t think she will live longer than a year.” With this devastating news, I did not know what to do. I thought to myself that perhaps I should cry, or try to forget and take care of her as best I could and make her laugh to ease her pain.
I was in my final year at high-school. I was only seventeen and the pressure of knowing that the outcome of school results would determine my whole life ahead finally got to me. I snapped. One day, in the absence of my parents, I ran away from home, hoping never to return.
Sometimes it just takes one event to forever change your outlook on life. One such event happened to me when I was only 5 years old. My day started out as most 5yr olds growing up in the south in the late 60’s, only I was a bit different because unlike my neighborhood friends, my mom was 55yrs old. My mother gave birth to me when she was 50 years old and I was the youngest of 8 children, most of which were grown with children of their own when I came along. My mother spoiled me rotten, she was very attentive to my every demand. And I mostly demanded cereal, Rice Krispies only! My mother wasn’t very playful with me (what 55yr old would be?) but I felt her love. She would not let me out of her sight, she was always there, until one day she wasn’t. I woke up that morning in my mother’s bed as I often did, and I shook her to wake her up as I always did, only this time the shaking wasn’t working. I remember yelling for my siblings to come wake mommy up, I needed my Rice Krispies! Only instead of waking her up they began yelling and screaming and calling people on the phone. What’s going on? It’s not that serious, just get mommy up! I saw men in white shirts running into the house and then leaving with my mother on a stretcher. I didn’t
The Most Important Event in my Life The most important event in my life, didn’t even happen to me, but happened to my older sister, Becky. The reason I am writing about her is because the things that have happened to her and the things she has done in the past have affected me tremendously, as well as my family. Her life used to be filled with nothing else but drugs, stealing, and lying. My family has never been the same since then.
Throughout life we come across many people, some who influence us in negative ways, and those who influence in good ways, often changing our complete outlook on life. For me, it took the struggle of one of my best friends to open my eyes. I only wish it wasn't too late to thank her.
“An Event Which Changed My Life” An Event which changed my life, well when, I think back on my life there’s Many changes for the good and some were bad but, there were some learning experiences that help make me a better person. The events in my life, was dealing with the Birth and The Death of my first daughter. The First, Event was the birth of my first daughter it, was a joyous event in my life.
Today was the worst day of my life. My mom gave me good and bad news. The bad news was so horrible. The good news was very surprising. The bad news was so bad, that I started crying. My mom told me that I was MOVING!!!
There have been very few events throughout my lifetime that I feel have impacted or inspired me with such noteworthiness and that I know will change my outlook on the world and affect me forever. One of those events occurred when I traveled to Portugal, my parent’s homeland. From this excursion in 2007, I learned the importance of family, most importantly the distant kind. It provided me with a totally different perspective on the world and how large and extended one’s family can really be; even across cultures and continents. I felt so fortunate learning this lesson at a young age and growing to appreciate the ideals I was brought up with as a child. The family I have in Portugal has always been there; however, their faces have aged and are blemished with the passing of many years and difficult times. Some newer additions to the family have started to become a part of the modern Portuguese workforce. One of my cousins was studying to become a veterinarian and another was working as a nurse at the local hospital of Montalegre (or “Happy Mountain”).
One day in the midst of summer, my friend Mike and I got off from a hard day of work and were on our way to the mall. While at work we had planned to meet a few people there. I was going to be seeing my friend Jessica who I had not talked to in years. Before leaving, we stopped off at our houses, took showers, and got ready. As I anxiously waited on the stairs for his car to roll into the driveway, my mom said, “Be careful and do not drive like an idiot.” I obviously said alright and she was on her way. Minutes later I see my friend Mike pull into the driveway. I slipped my feet into my shoes and got in his car. We were almost to the mall when his phone rang. He picked it up and said, “Hello?” It was my mom and she wanted to speak to me. Upon putting the phone to my ear she told me that I had to come home right away. She said that my dad had just gotten into a car crash and that I had to come home and watch my sister. I did not know how to break the news to Mike, that what we were anticipating all day would not happen. He was upset, but he understood what was going on. I came home thinking it was the same old same old; he had gotten hit by a drunk driver, the car got totaled, and he was fine.
Wednesday, October 13, 2013 is a date I will never forget. On that day, time stopped for a moment. I was sixteen and only had my license for a month. I was so excited about having so much freedom, that I was driving every day, with no hesitation. I was invincible,or so I thought. This day changed my thinking completely. What started out as a normal day, quickly turned into one that was very different from any other. I had just gotten out of cheer practice and was on my way home. On the way, I realized that I needed gas, so I decided to go through South Carolina, since they have the lowest gas prices. It was not out of the way, so to say. It was just another rout home. It was not the first time I had taken this way, but, it was definitely the last.