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Essays On Organ Donor
Importance of organ donation
About organ transplantation
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On the first day of junior year, my teacher, Mrs.Yanac, told my class a story about her father my class a story about her father, who is one of the millions of people lucky to survive from an organ failure. She became emotional as she talked about their journey through his treatments and being patient during his recovery. I have never experienced a person radiate so much hope from a conflicting situation. After what Mrs.Yanac experienced with her father’s sickness, she decided to dedicate part of her life to helping people in similar situations. She explained to the class how donating your body organs after death could save many lives. For example, her father’s heart was weak which meant if he did not have someone donate their heart after they no longer needed it, then he would not have survived and have lived any longer than a few months. Her strength and attitude towards her situation inspired me and led me to realize some significant lessons about hope and love. Mrs.Yanac always had a story to tell that would make us smile or laugh. Along with typical math and anatomy, she taught valuable life lessons. Throughout the year, Mrs.Yanac shared stories with us about people that she met during her father’s recovery from a heart …show more content…
During the summer, I began to volunteer at the local hospital. One afternoon while I was volunteering, I was invited to attend a party with the patients and staff to appreciate all their hard work. The party’s theme was hope and giving. Many stories were shared; one of the most inspirational one was from a young girl named, Rebecca. She was an eight-year-old girl, who suffered from a kidney failure. Mrs.Yanac had explained to us that Rebecca’s situation was serious, but Rebecca always managed to have a positive and happy attitude. It is people like Rebecca who are put on a waiting list for an organ donor to give them hope and
Father, computer server engineer, alcoholic, and felon. My dad, Jason Wayne DeHate, has influenced my life, not only genetically, but he has also improved my character and creativity throughout the years. Beginning at age two, I was cultured with profanity spit from rappers such as Eminem. While my mother was at work we had multiple videotaped “jam sessions” and coloring time that allowed for the foundation of friendship we have today. The jam sessions consisting of me mumbling and stumbling in front of the television, as he was “raising the roof” from his lazyboy. Since then, he has taught me how to rollerblade, change wiper blades, and play my favorite sport, tennis. Along with influencing my leisure activities and the music I enjoy, his prominent personality allows me to grow as a person. Being the only male figure in my immediate family, I
During the summer or even on weekends my mom would take me with her to go help out her patients. Which included bathing them, feeding them, and caring for them. Not only did I help my mom with her patients but I would always help rake leaves, pick up trash and make their yard look nice. I can’t even image how they would’ve done all the things I did for them with their fragile bodies. I’m glad I was there for them and made a difference. Aside from helping my mom’s patients. I helped an elderly man who was on fire in his backyard. It was around spring time and I heard someone screaming yelling “help” so I went around to look and there he was on fire. I tried so hard to put out the fire and it felt like mission impossible but I did not give up even though the ambulance were on the way. He was burnt pretty bad, but I was so glad I found him. Who knows it could’ve been worse! He is still alive till this day and sits on his porch waiting for me to pass by his house every morning to say good morning. It’s such a wonderful feeling to know that I not only changed a life but I saved
When I think about the moments leading up to my diagnosis I remember feeling weak, confused, shaky and sleepy. I did not notice that I had began sleeping throughout the day. My body was craving soft drinks like soda and juice but not food. Days would go by and I eventually fell into a deep slumber that I found myself only waking up from to use the bathroom. I knew something was wrong and that if I did not get to a hospital it would get worse. Nothing could have prepared me for the life changing diagnosis I would receive.
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.
It’s amazing how a horrific and negative life changing event can encourage and guide you in the path of your future. The end result may not be visible when it first takes place, but the process of a recovery can be extremely educational. You see, I was provided the opportunity of job shadowing firsthand the fields of athletic training and physical therapy due to a knee injury. I believe the majority of people would consider a severely damaged knee a dramatic setback in life. I was able to find the silver lining during the recovery.
On the first evening of service, I was prepared, yet scared that I would say something wrong or the children there would not accept my ideas. When I arrived, the group was small, as promised since it was a Saturday and many of the hospital guests were out with their parents or home for a fun weekend of activities. The children and youth who were there, however, gathered 'round for some of the activities I had planned. First, I made it a point to learn everyone's name which meant that I p...
Something as simple as taking a walk around the facility can prove to be a battle with patient X. From the day I met patient X it was noticeable that she was lacking her memory. Patient X could no longer tell me her name and everyday it would be different struggle, but for that day it was getting her out of bed to take a walk. From the moment I walked in and introduced myself, patient X could not provide me with her name. Patient X constantly asked if I was her baby, and when dealing with an Alzheimer patient, it’s always best to go along with what that patient is saying. As I got patient X up and out of bed, she started to become violent and resistant. Patient X took forty-five minutes to simply get out of bed and dressed, and that was the very beginning of the battle that would consist all day.
People’s lives are changed every day by their actions and experiences. This past summer, I participated in a community service project, an experience that opened my eyes in many ways. I was a volunteer at the County Memorial Hospital. In my time as a volunteer at the hospital, I was able to meet patients and staff members from all over the world and learn about their life experiences. Listening to all of their stories has made me truly appreciate everything which I have.
The summer after my freshman year in college, I went back to Honduras to volunteer with the children who had leukemia at the National Public Hospital. I have never been as intimidated as my first day, when I followed the attending oncologist, while he was showing me the pediatric unit. He also explained my duties, which were attending and playing with the children. When I was left to start my job, I felt almost as nuisance in the midst of that hectic hospital room. Unsure on how to approach the patients, I looked around and found a tender smiling face. Although I was nervous, the warmth of his expression gave me the confidence to walk towards his bed. After a long and pleasant talk, I learned that Diego was from a remote rural town, and that his father visited him three days a week because he had to work to support his family. Diego suffered from a severe form of leukemia and had been hospitalized for nine months. Due to his poor health, he was unable to walk or even sit up in his bed. Hence, he developed atrophy in his legs causing them to lose strength and mobility. Yet with a huge sparkle in his eyes, Diego shared with me his dreams of becoming a great soccer player. As I turned away to retrieve the board games that he requested, I was moved by his courage to dream despite the hardships he was enduring at such a young age. This encounter was the beginning of an important turning point in my life. What initially began as a job became a real duty for me. I felt compelled and obligated to the children whom I interacted with, gaining satisfaction in doing so. At first, it seemed I was doing them a favor but rather it was the children that made an impact in my life. After I left Diego’s bedside that day, I was heartbroken to see h...
Imagine having to wake up each day wondering if that day will be the last time you see or speak to your father. Individuals should really find a way to recognize that nothing in life is guaranteed and that they should live every day like it could be there last. This is the story of my father’s battle with cancer and the toll it took on himself and everyone close to him. My father was very young when he was first diagnosed with cancer. Lately, his current health situation is much different than what it was just a few months ago. Nobody was ready for what was about to happen to my dad, and I was not ready to take on so many new responsibilities at such an adolescent age. I quickly learned to look at life much differently than I had. Your roles change when you have a parent who is sick. You suddenly become the caregiver to them, not the other way around.
In the early 1990s, medical personnel’s fruitless attempts to save one-year-old, Colby Cassani’s, life were no match for the asphyxiating bath water that engulfed his lungs (The Colby Foundation, 2013). However, Colby’s parents refused to allow their son’s tragic death to be a mere disastrous event when they agreed to give his organs away and ensured the perseverance of his memory in the three lives that he saved (The Colby Foundation, 2013). Moreover, Colby’s contributions through his premature death inspired twenty years of organ donation awareness with a non-profit organization that his parents named after him (The Colby Foundation, 2013). While over one hundred thousand people are currently in desperate need of an organ transplant, nearly
As Kathy inches closer to her first donation, it is Hailsham that gives her faith and courage to be adamant, and memories become increasingly significant as a source of comfort
My father passed away in 1991, two weeks before Christmas. I was 25 at the time but until then I had not grown up. I was still an ignorant youth that only cared about finding the next party. My role model was now gone, forcing me to reevaluate the direction my life was heading. I needed to reexamine some of the lessons he taught me through the years.
In December, my father suffered a ruptured abdominal aortic aneurysm. His heart stopped twice during the operation, and he was not expected to survive. He had an intensive recovery period, and I wanted nothing more than to make him better immediately. His trauma had made me impatient and afraid to hope. I was having trouble waiting for things to unfold naturally and wanted to know what would happen in the end. Simple, everyday decisions or occurrences took on great importance.
One person that I care for very deeply is my dad. He is The reasons he means so much to me is because he helps me whenever I need help, plays sports with me, and he is just like one of my friends.