Emerging
The world where goals and success are of sole importance is not a reality, it is an illusion.
Phone calls at three a.m. rarely bring good news. One call shattered my world and changed my life forever. Reality blurred. My emotions took a violent grip on my mind, body, and ultimately my spirit. I began my sophomore year of high school standing at the very edge of my reality. I saw my life crumble around me and seemed to plummet into a dark abyss of disbelief. Suicide. After only 35 short years of life, my aunt Sue took her own life. My rational, upper-middle class reality vanished. The idea that everything happens for a reason, and that things always had an answer no longer held true. All the truths, all the certainty, all the normality, all the security embellished in my family and my reality were destroyed. Things like this aren't supposed to happen to me. This happens to other people. My emotions rushed through me as though on a race track, each trying to dominate. Yet, ultimately they were on a collision course. They exploded and blurred into a fiery inferno. Why did this happen? How am I supposed to feel now? How do I begin to piece together and construct a new reality? All I had was questions, and the world I had searched for answers in so many times before no longer existed for me. My search for answers led me inward as I was forced to construct a new reality.
"Oh my God, oh my God," the words rang through my ears and seemed to shake my very soul. I was jolted from my bed after an already sleepless night to Dad's horrified cry. The sheer terror that seemed to strangle his words seemed to pierce my heart with each syllable. Even from three rooms away, it echoed. A small beam of light crept under my door as the light in my parents' room was turned on. Even as I reached to open my door and investigate the commotion, I felt a heavy horror fall over me. Something was terribly wrong, and my heart raced as my sweaty palm turned the door knob. The scene in my parents' room was one I had never seen before. The expressions, the actions, were foreign and frightening. They both sat erect in their bed. Mom leaned close to Dad and held his arm tight, waiting herself to hear the terrible news.
In Auschwitz: A Doctor’s Eyewitness Account, Dr. Miklos Nyiszli tells the story of his time in Auschwitz. Dr. Nyiszli is a Jewish survivor of the Auschwitz concentration camp located in Poland. His story provides the world with a description of horrors that had taken place in camp in 1944. Separated from his wife and daughter, Dr. Nyiszli volunteered to work under the supervision of the head doctor in the concentration camp, Josef Mengele. It was under Dr. Mengele’s supervision that Dr. Nyiszli was exposed to the extermination of innocent people and other atrocities committed by the SS. Struggling for his own survival, Dr. Nyiszli did anything possible to survive, including serving as a doctor’s assistant to a war criminal so that he could tell the world what happened at the Auschwitz concentration camp.This hope for survival and some luck allowed Dr. Nyiszli to write about his horrific time at Auschwitz.His experiences in Auschwitz will remain apart of history because of the insight he is able to provide.
Joshua Nealy, a prominent medical school graduate, died last night from complications of losing his dream of becoming a practicing physician. He was 39 years-old. Soft-spoken and borderline obsessive, Joshua never looked the part of a “professional”, but, in the final days of his life, he revealed an unknown side of his psyche. This hidden quasi-Jungian persona surfaced during the last three years of pursuit of his long reputed dream profession, a position, which he spent nearly 10 years attaining. Sadly, the protracted search ended this past March 18th in complete and utter failure. Although in certain defeat, the courageous Nealy secretly clung to the belief that life is merely a series of meaningless accidents or coincidences. It’s not a tapestry of events that culminate in an exquisite, sublime plan. Asked about the loss of her dear friend, Emily, the girlfriend turned fiancé and dPT expert of Berkshire County, described Joshua as a changed man in the last years of his life. "Things were worse for him; not following his dream left him mostly lifeless, uninspired," Sammons noted. Ultimately, Joshua concluded that if we are to live life in harmony with the universe, we must all possess the powerful ability to change ourselves and the world around us; the choice to make ours from nothingness.
It begins nine in the years past, I sit on my bed stricken with fear of what hides beneath me, as I shriek for my parents, tears drip down my face, and hairs erect from my limbs. In horror, I hide behind my parents’ baggy pajamas with a hope of having protection from the unknown monster. “Honey, there is nobody in your closet or under the bed. Let mommy and
What is Myotonic Dystrophy?. Genetics Home Reference. November 2006. US National Library of Medicine. February 9, 2009. < http://ghr.nlm.nih.gov/condition=myotonicdystrophy>.
The night was tempestuous and my emotions were subtle, like the flame upon a torch. They blew out at the same time that my sense of tranquility dispersed, as if the winds had simply come and gone. The shrill scream of a young girl ricocheted off the walls and for a few brief seconds, it was the only sound that I could hear. It was then that the waves of turmoil commenced to crash upon me. It seemed as though every last one of my senses were succumbed to disperse from my reach completely. As everything blurred, I could just barely make out the slam of a door from somewhere alongside me and soon, the only thing that was left in its place was an ominous silence.
Duchenne muscular dystrophy is a genetic disorder of muscular weakness, typically in boys. DMD is a form of muscular dystrophy, and is caused by a defective gene for dystrophin. This could be caused genetically or to people without a known family history. DMD occurs in about 1 out of every 3,600 male infants.
Duchenne muscular dystrophy (DMD) is a form of a rapidly progressive muscular dystrophy that is the utmost deadly disorder diagnosed in childhood effecting children. DMD can occur as early as infancy and as late as age six. The disorder affects mostly males, because the Duchenne gene is located on the X-chromosome. DMD happens across all races and through rare, females can be diagnosed. The mutated DMD gene is typically inherited in a recessive manner, however it often occurs in families with no known history of the illness.
DMD also known as muscular dystrophy is muscular disease that occurs on young boys around age four to six. Muscular dystrophy is genetically transmitted disease carried from parent to offspring. This disease progressively damages or disturbs skeletal and cardiac muscle functions starting on the lower limbs. Obviously by damaging the muscle, the lower limbs and other muscles affected become very weak. This is ultimately caused by the lack dystrophin, a protein the body produces.
The progression of DMD can be organized in four stages. Stage one is called the Early Phase which is when a child has been diagnosed with DMD (PPMD, 2014). This will typically occur between the ages of 2 and 7. The most common first signs of this disorder are connected to speech delay and the child’s inability to meet their peer population expectation level. Some physical symptoms may include falls, muscle weakness, fatigue, difficult sitting, running, jumping, and climbing, slow mover, and lack of flexibility (PPMD,
Lynott, Douglas B. "Dr. Josef Mengele, Ruthless Nazi Concentration Camp Doctor — Selection — Crime Library on TruTV.com." TruTV.com: Not Reality. Actuality. Web. 09 Dec. 2011.
“At this time in my life I lived in a very old town house, where I often heard unexplainable noises in the attic. One night, when I was about 11, my parents went out to a party, leaving me all alone. The night was stormy, with crashes of lightening and thunder outside. Having nothing to do, I fell asleep after eating too much ice cream. All of a sudden, my alarm clock goes off in the middle of the night, reading 3 o’clock. I’m wondering why ...
It was a Monday night; I remember it like it was yesterday. I had just completed my review of Office Administration in preparation for my final exams. As part of my leisure time, I decided to watch my favorite reality television show, “I love New York,” when the telephone rang. I immediately felt my stomach dropped. The feeling was similar to watching a horror movie reaching its climax. The intensity was swirling in my stomach as if it were the home for the butterflies. My hands began to sweat and I got very nervous. I could not figure out for the life of me why these feelings came around. I lay there on the couch, confused and still, while the rings continued. My dearest mother decided to answer this eerie phone call. As she picked up, I sat straight up. I muted the television in hopes of hearing what the conversation. At approximately three minutes later, the telephone fell from my mother’s hands with her faced drowned in the waves of water coming from her eyes. She cried “Why?” My Grandmother had just died.
It was just after 10 o’clock when his fury burst through the wall that separated my bedroom from the living room. I recognized the voice, but not the anger. I knew full well that it was my father yelling, but I had never heard him so upset. Being the oldest and most responsible of my siblings, I had to go see what was going on. I tiptoed down the hallway and gingerly stepped out of the shadows and into the dim lighting of the living room. My eyes shot to my mom who was sitting in her recliner, red-faced, and wiping away tears with a handful of Kleenex. Then I saw my father, quickly sitting back in his chair as if everything were perfectly normal. “Having trouble sleeping?” he a...
Now being a thirteen-year-old girl who just called her mother the worst human being in the world, I wasn’t expecting that to come from her. When just moments before I’d been hiding in the hotel’s bathroom, thinking of every little scenario that could play out as my punishment. The ideas being as simple as my father yelling at me, others of me being grounded, or the bigger picture of them, hating me. So when they got Jacky, my sister, to usher me out of my sanctuary, I was plain terrified because of the habits I did even before then.