I awaken momentarily, discovering I was in a clinic. My mother stood over and caress my body, glad that I was doing convalescent, but upset that I did something like that. She squeezed me tight yet gently. I wrapped my arms around her and embraced her back. The nurse then entered after a few minutes to check up on me and bring the bills. "Your son has gotten a second degree burn with a piece of plastic inside of it. If he hadn’t received treatment instantly, it would've been more major and we would've cut the burn off his hand, permanently." She scanned over at the child with a stern and serious expression and quickly responded, "Never try that little stunt of yours again. You should be glad your hand is still intact, but I'm afraid you'll
In today society, beauty in a woman seems to be the measured of her size, or the structure of her nose and lips. Plastic surgery has become a popular procedure for people, mostly for women, to fit in social class, race, or beauty. Most women are insecure about their body or face, wondering if they are perfect enough for the society to call the beautiful; this is when cosmetic surgery comes in. To fix what “needed” to be fixed. To begin with, there is no point in cutting your face or your body to add or remove something most people call ugly. “The Pitfalls of Plastic Surgery” explored the desire of human to become beyond perfection by the undergoing plastic surgery. The author, Camille Pagalia, took a look how now days how Americans are so obsessed
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.
I woke up to the sound of Mother walking into the lounge after work. Mother had the same look in her eye as she did earlier when she told me about grandfather
During the last moments of my mother’s life she was surrounded by loved ones, as she slowly slipped away into the morning with grace and peace.
A new year had just arrived. I can still picture January in my mind, the mood was sullen and dark, I could feel the cold reaching my bones, but now I know that was the best feeling I‘d ever had. I had only a few weeks left to start college, which had been my dream since I can remember. My dad had already paid for my tuition, I was so exited I had promised to do my best. Then, I realized there was an obstacle in my way. I knew I needed to make a decision on whether or not keeping my pregnancy, it sounds rough, but it was definitive. I did not want to miss school, so I was definitely not taking this to the last term. I just could not think of myself being prostrated in bed for so long, as an impediment to start school. Never, nothing would make me give up on my dreams, and that was another promise I had made to myself.
It was time for bed which meant it was story time. I would lie down in my huge bed, all cuddled up in my fuzzy blanket. I patiently waited for my mom to be done with washing the dishes. We started by choosing a book from the many books on the shelf. Our shelf was filled vivid multicolored books. All stacked from the tiniest to the She began to read with her Mexican accent, reading those English words carefully to not mess up.The comfortable feeling in her voice so soft and silvery. I would begin to yawn and I felt the sleepiness hit me, which was normal. I would rub my eyes and try to be awake. I felt my eyes slowly closing. Before I knew it, I was knocked out.
She left her house with a radiant smile and that same smile continued as I watched her open the door to the car with my father firmly entrenched in the driver's seat. They were on their way to buy a tire for her car which so happened to be three miles from our home. Time crawled along at snails pace and eventually my brothers and myself wondered where my father and godmother were. Within an instant my mother screamed for me and I ran to her as if my life depended on it. Instead my life was not in the balance it was my godmother who had lost hers. Instantly shattered and numb I was afraid to ask the next question but my mother eased my ...
Many types of surgeries that I have seen is fascinating in my opinion, yet, it’s a frightening experience to go through. When I was still in my sophomore year in high school, I had a major experience that has changed my life. It was that time of the year where I had to go in for my jaw surgery. Due to the fact I had a huge under bite that wasn’t fixable from the braces I was wearing; Optional choice I had was going in for surgery to get it fixed. The day I went in for surgery, I was nervous yet, excited for the outcome. During the procedure, I was sleeping as good as from the time I was a baby; never have I felt relaxed at that moment during that phase. After the whole procedure was over, I woke up feeling odd; face was swelled up, my teeth
Leo Jiang used to be called Hao Jiang and is one of the thousands of the people in a year who get plastic surgery in order to look less Asian and more Western. The West's obsession with race colors its judgment, projecting discomfort onto surgery that for many may not have any explicit racial essentials.
As time went on, a tall man came into the room and asked me what I was doing alone in the room. I told him I was waiting for my mother to finish her case and that I wasn’t allowed to leave the room. He looked at me and smiled and told me to come with him into the Cath Lab and we could get something to eat and drink. He bought me a coffee and a burrito and had me sit in the Cath Lab in front of one of the monitors. As I was sitting in the Cath Lab my mom saw me and was not very pleased.
I remember it as if it was yesterday. The Friday before, I had been called out of class early. I was completely confused seeing as there was no purpose for me to leave. I had no doctors’ or dentists’ appointments or anywhere to be for that matter. As I walked towards the front office, there stood my mother. Her face was a little red,
“It’s going to be hard,” the doctor said as the surgery was completed and I was out of recovery. “What happened?” I asked a little worried about the way he was acting. “We had to remove your left eye because you had Retinoblastoma in it,” he replied. I went over to the mirror to see a patch on the left side of my face covering my left eye socket. Little did I know about how much this moment would change my life and make me who I am today.
When I was around the age of 10 I had my very first surgery on my left leg. It was a moment I would never be able to forget. Not so much because it was hurtful or awful, but because it was an amazing moment, it made me realize many things I wouldn't be able to without that experiment.
I looked around the room and I instantly spotted my mother sitting in the chair next to my bed. She was reading Us Weekly magazine, her blonde hair falling into her face. She was wearing one of her signature floral print dresses. She flipped her hair from her face and saw I was awake.
At this point I was no longer numb, but vulnerable. I needed somebody to just drown me with love, and what better place to visit than the home of my siblings. Something inside of me believed so desperately my mother had changed; that she would welcome me with opened arms, and I would be reunited with some of my siblings. So I returned to my old place of torment full of hope. Nothing could have prepared me for her response. As I rang the doorbell I was neither welcomed or loved. I watch her peep out the door and close it in my face after she realized it was