I once had to get surgery done, and I can tell you right now, it isn’t fun. I was sick one day and it turned out to last for about over a week. I was in pain and was sick to my stomach. So my mom called the doctor. Whenever I got to the doctor’s office, he had my try and stand up to jump up and down on my right foot. I couldn’t jump though because my side and stomach hurt. He quickly knew what had been wrong with me. It involved going to the hospital and having surgery done, too.
The doctor informed my mother and I that my appendix had ruptured and I needed to get to Kosairs Children’s Hospital right away. The only problem here was, my mom had never been there and didn’t know how to get there. So, my mother called my dad and he didn’t answer. She called his friend that he worked with in Louisville by Kosairs, he didn’t answer. Finally my mom called my grandmother, she answered! She took us to New Albany to meet my dad, who finally called my mom back.
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After I got out of surgery I didn’t know where I was and got emotional. I looked over in the corner to find my mom and dad sitting there waiting for me to wake up. I started crying because I was confused and scared. I was in pain for a few weeks and I was released from the hospital in about two or three days after my
Often times, I continue to have vivid flashbacks of the day my father came home from his first major surgery. I can precisely remember the slim plastic tubes protruding from my father’s neck connected to a small bottle collecting the accumulating drops of blood. I was
I’m actually kind of shocked I could write about recovery because it is a topic with a special meaning to myself. But, I found it easier to write about my own experience with a negative event this time, and I believe it is because I grew as a writer. I saw the value the personal testimony adds to a piece, and thus I could add my own story.
Maybe 15 minutes pre-operatively, a little in the OR and once again briefly at post –op. As an observer and not being the patient laying on the table waiting to undergo a procedure, I still felt very anxious. Honestly, I was very glad that it wasn’t me laying there and can only imagine what is going through the patients mind. As a nurse, to be reminded of this as a patient comes to me post-operatively that they just came from a very stressful and anxious filled experience, would hopefully prompt me to be more understanding and compassionate in my care because of what they just went through and will be going through to
I had just finished facing my fears watching the metallic needle slip so seamlessly under my skin into the veins of my nervous, clammy hand. Hugging my Mom like it could have been the last time I saw her, seeing my dad's face stern and worried. I wheeled down the hall into this operating room, white was all I saw, a bed in the middle for the surgery to go down. As I lay on the bed waiting to be put under I remember seeing the blue masks of the people to be operating on me, I had to put all my trust in them, trusting someone you seen for less than 5 seconds with your life. Absolutely terrifying. The nurse slipping the fluid into my IV as I lay on my back looking up at the white ceiling, this cold sensations rushed over me. Then suddenly, I was out.
My fingers were struggling to dial 9-1-1, all I could think about was the intense crying of my mom going on in the background. What was going to happen? After the few ringing tones, an operator answered. I quickly explained that I needed an ambulance immediately. The operator said paramedics would be there in a matter of minutes. Those minutes were the longest minutes of my life. After the phone call my mom asked me to help her get my grandmother out of bed. When I went into my grandma’s room I grabbed one of her arms while my mom grabbed the other, and we pulled with all of our strengths. I was shouting my grandma's name to get a reaction out of her, she just muttered a word and looked up with her soulless eyes. As we struggled to keep her standing the paramedics came through the door. They loaded her up on a stretcher and took her to the Emergency Room. That night I couldn’t sleep thinking of what was happening in the hospital.
Around the age of 5, going to doctor appointments was a normal occurrence . I would even look forward to it, spending time with my mom. I will always cherish those times that I spent with her. Those appointments eventually lead up to the surgery that would change everything. During that surgery, the doctor had created a hole in the mesentery lining, tissue that connects organs to the wall of the abdomen. This hole eventually became larger causing many organs to fail. We brought my mom into the ER where she was brought into surgery. This would be the first time my mom would die.
It was a chilly morning in August and my phone kept buzzing in my pocket with news I wish I could change. I was sitting in the parking lot with one of my friends, talking, before we had to go to work. I grabbed my phone to figure out why it was going crazy. It was my mother: “Terrie is not doing very well; I wanted you to know. I am sorry; She’s nearing the end.” I broke down into tears while my friend witnessed it.
When I was just 11 years old, I fractured my ankle playing basketball at the local park. The pain was white-hot and excruciating. I was reduced to a sobbing, blubbering, mess and unrecognizable upon my arrival the doctor’s office. After the diagnosis and subsequent surgery, I was placed on crutches and barred from participating in physical activity for at least six weeks. This was paramount to torture for my 11 year-old energetic and hyper-active self. Seeing my friends run around short of breath because of their own intoxicating laughter was bittersweet at best. One evening at the local park, I was just about ready to go insane until I surveyed my immediate surroundings and noticed a couple of kids my age sitting at a wooden table a couple of feet
One thing that really bothers me is how much I changed. I used to play games all day, not focus on school, wouldn't get in serious trouble, and was very innocent compared to my present day self. There are cons and pros of my past self compared to how I am currently. I am more happy of how I am now then I am before. As time changes, so do I and I can not stop that. What’s done has already been done and can’t be changed so you always have to look towards the future and never the past. The past will not definite who you are today unless you let it. I would have never expect that I would be transferred to a continuation high school in my freshman year. It is a bad thing to many people, but I am thankful that I am sent to it because I will learn
I showed up at the hospital about thirty minutes later. I was so scared and did not know what to expect. I did not know if my father was dead, ...
Before I went into hormone therapy, I had undergone a laparoscopic surgery to determine an endometriosis diagnosis. My doctor at the time told me the recovery would be quick (a few days), and rather painless (should be fine with Tylenol, he said), but he seriously underestimated on both counts. Two days after the surgery, I was in the emergency room with an infection,
My father's eyes opened, and he called out for my sister Kelly and I to come to him. In a very serious and sad voice, he told us that he was very sick, and he was going to the Fort Wayne hospital. My mother told Kelly and I to help her pack some things for him, because he was going to be leaving soon. We helped her pack, keeping quiet because we did not want to interrupt the silence that had taken over the room.
This event greatly affected me, both emotionally and physically. My dad was in the hospital in a lot of pain because he shattered the two most painful bones to break and I could not go see him because of my work schedule and because I had to watch my sister. Finally, after four long days I saw him. Even though he is my dad, I must say he was a mess. He could not move at all, and when he tried to he was in a lot of pain.
He was fine. It was like nothing between us ever actually happened. You already had a replacement. I felt immense amounts of pain. Luckily, I am used to the pain. More or less, I 'd say I 'm numb to it.
February twenty-third 2010 was just a regular ordinary day. I was on my way to class on this cold February afternoon, when my phone rung. It was my cousin on the other end telling me to call my mom. I could not figure out what was wrong, so I quickly said okay and I hung up and called my mom. When my mom answered the phone I told her the message but I said I do not know what is wrong. My mom was at work and could not call right away, so I took the effort to call my cousin back to see what was going on. She told me that our uncle was in the hospital and that it did not look good. Starting to tear up I pull over in a fast food restaurant parking lot to listen to more to what my cousin had to say. She then tells me to tell my mom to get to the hospital as quickly as possible as if it may be the last time to see her older brother. My mom finally calls me back and when I tell her the news, she quickly leaves work. That after-noon I lost my Uncle.