Memoir I can still remember that small enclosed, claustrophobic room containing two armed chairs and an old, brown, paisley print couch my dad and I were sitting on when he told me. “The doctors said there was little to no chance that your mother is going to make it through this surgery.” Distressed, I didn’t know what to think; I could hardly comprehend those words. And now I was supposed to just say goodbye? As I exited that small room, my father directed me down the hospital hallway where I saw my mother in the hospital bed. She was unconscious with tubes entering her throat and nose keeping her alive. I embraced her immobile body for what felt like forever and told her “I love you” for what I believed was the last time. I thought of how horrific it was seeing my mother that way, how close we were, how my life was going to be without her, and how my little sisters were clueless about what was going on. After saying my farewells, I was brought downstairs to the hospital’s coffee shop where a million things were running …show more content…
through my mind. As I was not-so-patiently waiting and wasting time in the coffee shop, I began to put together a few puzzle pieces. Earlier that morning, my dad brought us to school, which wasn’t unusual, but my mom typically drove us. He took her duty that morning because my mother stayed at home for the day with a headache. I thought of how my mother had been sleeping on the couch for the past few weeks, suffering of severe headaches. But she always had headaches; it became a regular thing, which is why on October 9th, 2009, she knew something wasn’t right. Unlike the oblivious 6th grader I was on that day, I am now aware of what happened on October 9th.
My mother stayed home from work, suffering on the couch from an outrageous headache. We, the kids, prepared ourselves for school. We all individually waved her a good-bye and a quick “I love you” as we walked out the door and headed to school. My dad brought us to school and proceeded to work as normal, with just the thought that my mom had a normal headache. Hours later, my mom called my father and grandfather and informed them that something wasn’t right. She claimed that it felt like her head was “filling up” and that our neighbor was going to drive her to the hospital. They arrived at the Baton Rouge General where they met my dad and grandfather. My mother continued to complain about the severe headache which was “filling up” her head. Before she was even admitted, she had a seizure in the waiting room that was caused by a ruptured
aneurism. Needless to say, I was overjoyed that Friday night when I received the news that my mother survived through the surgery. Although she was still in critical condition, I was grateful that she remained alive. While spending months in ICU, her health steadily improved. Visiting her was always a win-lose situation for me, sometimes she acted funny and outgoing, but other days she was sulking and sad. Having to see her suffer, locked in a scary, isolated, room with other dying patients was hard for me. But at least I was seeing her. Doctors educated us that she was being kept in ICU because she was having “vasospasms,” which are small blood clots or vein closures that can lead to strokes, and she was constantly on medicines preventing those from occurring. When doctors saw improvement in the vasospasms, they took her off of the medicine. Days later she had a stroke that paralyzed the right side of her body, disabled her talking abilities, and caused her brain to swell inside her skull. Immediately she had a craniotomy to release pressure on her brain. After all the procedures, she admitted to The Neuromedical Center to go through rehabilitation. After a month, she was released to come home. Things were weird for me at first, but I quickly adjusted to her disabilities. Although it was hard for me to see her like that, I learned what she could and couldn’t do, and what she needed assistance with. I learned how to understand what she was trying to say by playing charades and to this day say I’m still the best at understanding her in the family. She continued physical and speech therapy and improved daily. So many people were there for our family, supporting us, making sure we had everything we needed. As a family, we have been through so much. My mom improves every day. She can now walk and get around by herself. As for her communication abilities, she has gotten much better, most everyone can understand what she is trying to say. She is such a role model. After everything she has gone through, she has kept that gorgeous smile on her face and her amazing sense of humor and personality. She’s taught me to look at life in a positive way, keep my head up through hard times, and to never give up. Although it took some time to cope with her disabilities, it is normal now, and I am so grateful that I still have my mother with me on earth.
I walked into the room on New Year’s Day and felt a sudden twinge of fear. My eyes already hurt from the tears I had shed and those tears would not stop even then the last viewing before we had to leave. She lay quietly on the bed with her face as void of emotion as a sheet of paper without the writing. Slowly, I approached the cold lifeless form that was once my mother and gave her a goodbye kiss.
Changing places can be very difficult sometimes. Starting a life in a different place that you might not be used to or just living a different lifestyle. I went through that phase many times. The first time was because something that had a big impact in my life happened. My mom and dad gotten divorced. It mostly affected me because I was the oldest and had much more memories with my dad than my brother and sister.
isn't to write a paper that will get a good grade. Now, my goal is to
In the early years of my childhood from what I could remember life had seemed to be decent. My mom was flourishing in her career at the Post Office and making an admirable amount of money, considering the fact that she was a single parent. My mom was very dedicated to ensuring that my brother and I had an exceptional life growing up. She worked what I would have liked to call insane hours. But even as kids, Derek and I understood the importance of her work ethics. We had each other and other relatives to care for us to make sure that we were never left alone or so that we didn't feel abandoned. To me life couldn't get any better then this. That was until my mother found a lump in her breast. I can recall that memory as if it had just happened yesterday. That one day, a lump that would change our lives forever , that small lump but yet so powerful and damaging that threaten to take my mother away from her children. It was like any other normal day. My mom was in the bathroom doing her normal routine when she came out of the bathroom and told Derek and I to get dressed. I don't know what made me look up that day, but I did. When I looked into my mother's eyes I knew something was wrong. You have to understand that my mother is a brave and strong woman that never expressed nor showed her emotions towards Derek and me other than her happiness. So that day when I looked into her eyes I saw nothing but pain, anger, and sorrow. At that time I couldn't quite find the words to describe what I had seen but now I know those were the perfect words to describe that look. It was terrifying, but yet she still remained so calm. Looking back on that day I don't know which really scared me the most, that look in my mother's eyes or the calmness in ...
One day that made all the other days seem to disappear. I woke up just like every other day, thinking all is well, only today is different, today is life changing. I’m a mother who has dedicated my entire life to my babies, and within a few hours, my whole life was turned upside down. My son has epilepsy, a seizure disorder that up until that day I knew nothing about. When you think of seizures, you think of thrashing around and foaming of the mouth, I sure did. For Blayk, my three year old son, yet, that was not the case. It started out that he was just quiet, which was not different from his normal disposition. A few minutes later, I noticed a spiked fever, followed by vomiting. To be honest, at this point, I didn’t think too much of his
All my life I have met many people who have left an impact on my life whether it be in sports, work, extracurriculars, or even just meeting someone you don’t know.
“Do you think it’s time to wake her up?” “Maybe we can let her sleep for ten more minutes…” My parents thought they were being sneaky and quiet by talking in whispers, as if sharing a secret message that nobody else could hear, but I was already awake and alert. “Let’s go in.” I heard my mother’s voice coo as I braced my seven-year-old body for the terrible phenomenon about to occur. I curled up in a ball under my covers like an armadillo in the smoldering desert, as a warm tear slid down my cheek and a burst of light flooded the room. My parents walked in and shook my shoulder. I instantly started sobbing as I knew that this was something I did not want to go to at all. “This will be the worst day of my life,” I thought to myself, “...the day where I get rid of my benign tumor, the day I have knee surgery.”
I had just finished my closing shift at work. I came home to heat left overs in the microwave and feed my dog, Murphy, his dinner. As I sat down to begin my dinner, my dad walked in the kitchen, “Your grandmother has a perforated bowel and is in emergency surgery. Her surgery has been almost five hours and they aren’t done yet. I am leaving to see her”. I wasn’t hungry anymore. My dad packed his belongings and drove to New Jersey alone. I wasn’t able to go because I had three tests the following day. I would have never thought I would be standing next to my Grandma, only three short weeks later saying goodbye to her for the last time.
“She has been so strong and hasn’t let out a single tear. On the contrary, she has been consoling me,” I overheard my father saying on the phone as he was sobbing. I remember being filled with dread because up until that point, I had never seen my father cry. Later that night my parents sat me down and informed me that my mother had a brain tumor. Her debilitating headaches should have told us something was very wrong, however we were too young to know any better. Nevertheless, we were assured that she would be fine once the lime-sized growth from her brain was removed. During her hospitalization and recovery, I was eager to have my healthy, independent mother back. Unfortunately, my vision was faulty and instead she came home depressed and
On Friday, December 11, 2015, I woke up thinking the day would be the same as any other day, but before the sun could rise, I was already facing a traumatic event that would never again let me see life the same way. The traumatic event involved a wreck, texting and driving, a close loved one, and a death. I would not desire this upon anyone. Who would have thought I would wake up to a total different life just from one day to another. My life changed the day my uncle passed away.
“If we had found it any later, he would have died,” my dad’s doctor told my mother; it took the hospital too long to realized that my dad’s appendix had ruptured. The hospital had kept misdiagnosing him, and they were now trying to convince my mom the hospital wasn’t at fault. At the time, I was only eleven years old, and I was too naïve to know what was going on. However, I could see that everyone in my family was stressed about my father’s surgery he just had and his condition. In the past few days my mother had only been home for an hour a day to take a shower and have a snack. I would see her hands tremble, the bags beneath her eyes grow increasingly dark, and the color in her face disappear like her appetite. She looked so fragile and stressed, and I had no idea why she was so upset. I honestly believed that my dad just needed to spend some time in the hospital. I hadn’t seen him since he was admitted into the hospital, but I knew that he was strong enough to battle any sickness. It was now Thanksgiving break and my sister and I only wanted to go visit our father. One day, my sister and I were finally able to go see him, and that’s when everything changed.
A few minutes rolled by and I heard the house phone ring, my mom casually picked it up. It did not take more than three minutes before I heard crying; I ran to my mom’s room and she was just holding the phone at her waist. I could not have counted the tears rolling down her face, even if I had wanted to. All she did was grab me and hold me, there was a fear of the unknown; I was very timid to ask what was going on. Finally she announced that my dad had collapsed from a stroke, was in a coma, and was being flown to a hospital in Germany.
if I pick a school or major that I end up hating or having no interest in
Have you ever been influenced by some important person that helped you be the person that you are today? I have been. The people that have had influence on me are the most important humans beings, my family. But before I begin talking about my family, I want to describe to you the place that we spend most of the time together which also means something important to me and my family. This place is called the family room. This room is small but cozy. It is painted in white and has three windows decorated with beautiful curtains. By the windows you can appreciate a nice view of some beautiful trees and a nice pool. On the walls there are some family photos like the ones that show where my brothers and I were born, my graduation photo, some family members photos like my grandparents, and some paintings made by one of my brothers. Also inside this room there is a nice home theater that includes a nice stereo and TV, and a new compact computer. But this is not all, this room has some very comfortable furniture and I can say that they are comfortable because I use them to watch TV, a movie, or just sit and rest. Also the furniture is used by my brothers to sit and play nitendo, to study, or play with the computer. But from all this furniture there is one chair that is the most cozy chair that I have ever sat upon and that is my father's chair. So this is our room, which is very important to us and has a lot of special things, but the most special part of this room is when it brings my family together.
Playing the viola allows my emotions to weave their way into my music. Shaping a discordant sound into expressive music has been a lengthy, laborious, but ultimately rewarding process.