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Negative effects of solitary confinement
Psychological effects of solitary confinement paper
Psychological effects of solitary confinement paper
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Running through the hospital’s long white halls, he thought that his mom was going to die. The paramedics were right in front of him, but it felt as if they were a mile away. Reaching his hand out, he began to holler: PLEASE STOP! PLEASE the words bristled from his mouth. He fell onto his knees, in front of him the white floor had droplets of blood that came out of his mother. Time passes, the boy lying on the floor, motionless, Just looking at the flickering light above. Footsteps approached, the boy remained motionless--not caring who it was. I’ve found the boy, over. Excellent nurse, bring him to O.R. #3. Gotcha. The nurse stopped and looked at the boy, she felt sympathy for him. She observed how the boys skinned turned pale. No child should go through this, said the nurse under her breath. Continuing her walk, she as the boy decides to lie on the ground. Hey buddy. How’s it going? There was no answer. Lying down on the cold, sterile floor, the pain was indescribable. The nurse could not stand the stink like pain on her back, deciding to get up; she crouched down giving her hand to the boy. Come with me, okay? Grabbing her hand was the only communication they have had so far. His hands were cold as steel, the nurses face grew concerned. Let’s get you warmed up okay? Holding hands they walked to the front desk on floor eight, Hey, do you if the cafeteria is still up? I think it is, but you better hurry its almost eleven. The boy looked up at the nurse, tears running down his face. Oh don’t cry. Giving him a hug. Lets go get some coco. Sitting down at the cafeteria there was still no communication between the boy and the nurse. Yummy coco huh? Looking across the table, he pushes the coco aside; I don’t ... ... middle of paper ... ...m, she did not know what was going to happen next. Who was the boy going to stay with just in case something does happen. The taught she had utility caused her to fall asleep going back into her coma. The boy just observed his mother. The boys eyes watered. He as his mother also taught what was happening. The isolation of the room caused him to become overwhelmed. Hyperventilating the boys asma came, the nurse helping the boy earlier that night saw that he didn’t look okay. What was she going to do? Help! Doctor! She rushed in putting him on the bed next to his mothers. Doctor is we dont stop this the boy will ultimately go into cardiac arrest. I know nurse, I know… Walking to and from the halls the mother became restless, she did not know what was happening with her son. She knew that she had done something wrong. Why couldn't this situation be resolved. She taught
...hat she does not obliges to what she said to her daughter on about staring to other people. She stared and looked at the teacher twice, which would demonstration that the mother does not like something about her. “Her lips are quivering,” said the daughter showing that her mother had tremble when she was talking to her. They touch and press the lips as an old game but instead the mother put her hand down on her side that indicated it was not part of the old game it was different. The mother shoes as she walked down the hallway from her daughter and the teacher made a very loud sound. Singing and talking in the classroom as they walked towards the room was still not loud enough to take away her mother shoes walking down the hallway. Here the mother is showing emotions that she does not approve of the teacher as in her actions and having loud steps down the hallway.
Now that the summary is out there for all who did not get to read the story let’s make some connections to everyday life. In the story is it said by the author that, “All the while I hated myself for having wept before the needle went in, convinced that the nurse and my mother we...
The novel, “Dreaming in Cuban” by Christina Garcia, is about a Cuban family. This novel is structured around the Cuban Revolution, everything from politics, family life, and spirituality. The women in the family all have strained relationships. They all have very different personalities and different reactions to the revolution. Lourdes, the daughter of Celia wants nothing to do with the revolution and wants nothing to do with Cuba. She also doesn’t keep much contact with her mother. Everything she has gone through is why she is the way she is, and why her daughter also has a strained relationship with her.
Her eyes were heavy, her body weak. As she crawled into the bathroom two feet away, Abby felt her body slowly succumbing to the numbness. All of her pain would be gone in less than 10 minutes, so why would she want to turn back? What about the senior trip Abby had planned with her best friend? What about the chair at the dinner table that would now be vacant? A couple of hours later Abby’s family came home from her little sister’s soccer game. Little did they know what they would find as they approached the top of the stairs. Her little sister, Ali, stood still as she looked down at her feet. There on the cold floor lay her big sister, her role model, and her super hero. Ali was crushed when she saw the pill bottle in her hand and the pale color of her skin. Her mom fell to her knees screaming and crying, wondering where she
I had just walked into Annie’s room to find her screaming in pain. I ran to find the supervising nurse and rushed back to comfort Annie. Shortly after, the nurse came, fed Annie her medications, and walked out. Not a word was said. But I knew Annie was afraid, confused, upset; managing deep pain in her body. I knew she did not want to be alone, so I stayed beside her for a while, holding her hand until she fell asleep, telling her she would be okay. ================
One day she returns home early to learn that her child was critical injured and was in the hospital; quickly she rushes to his side to comfort he. This poem was written in the manner of a mother and child having a conversation about personal choices and consequences....
Oh my God! Betsy!" It was my dad. I was disappointed and embarrassed of myself. I had let him down. My voice yelled for help as my heart beat rapidly with fear and relief. The car wobbled. I could feel the weight of the car lift slowly off me. For the first time, intense pain struck my lower half. "Crawl out of there," someone yelled to me. I pushed against the ground with all my might but I couldn't move. The pain was excruciating, nevertheless I could not feel the lower half of my body. I felt paralyzed. Still struggling to move, I felt strong arms glide around my shoulders and under my armpits. They drug me out of the way of the falling car. My dad had saved me. As I lie on the weed covered ground, several people surrounded me. I dreamily looked around and saw my sister sitting Indian style next to me, plastered in blood. She had run barefoot to the nearest house to call 911 and my dad. She was my angel. We sat there in shock. Was it just a dream? Everything had happened so fast. Every minute lying on that dirt felt like a lifetime. Strangers kept poking every inch of my body and bugging me with questions that I didn't have answers to. After that, the ambulance finally arrived. They rushed over to my sister and I and they asked me a number of questions that I obliviously answered and started to get me ready to go. With a bright orange brace around my neck they slowly pushed me onto a stiff
I can see a crack of light coming from under the bathroom door. I keep hearing a strange sound, almost like a hurt puppy. As I walk closer, I see a dark puddle on the floor. Suddenly, I am very afraid. I slowly open the door. “Mommy, Mommy, are you ok?” My mother looked at me and cried, “Dial 911, Darling! Hurry, Honey, Hurry!” There is so much blood—on the floor, on her clothes, and on her hands. I can hear the sirens now. Mommy goes for a ride in the ambulance. My three day old baby brother and I have to stay with the neighbor until Daddy comes and picks us up. What happened to my mother?
The last hour I had spent preparing for this moment, because deep down I seemed to know that my family would never leave the hospital alive. Still, the words hit me at full force, and I feel my breathing quicken and heartbeat pick up as my eyes dart around the room. My pulse pounds in my temple as if I just ran a mile, and the doctor is trying to get me to calm down, but the room is spinning and inky blackness edges into the corner of my vision. My legs feel weak and shaky as I succumb to the horribleness of it all.
Every mother would like to see her child succeed in life. The following passage from the poem, "Mother to Son", by Langston Hughes demonstrates the love and concern a mother has for her son. She teaches him using her own life as an example; her life as a climb up a staircase. The imagery from the advice given in the stanza is explicit and poignant:
But I am prouder - infinitely prouder - to be a father. A soldier destroys in order to build; the father only builds, never destroys. The one has the potentiality of death; the other embodies creation and life. And while the hordes of death are mighty, the battalions of life are mightier still. It is my hope that my son, when I am gone, will remember me not from the battle field but in the home repeating with him our simple daily prayer, 'Our Father who art in Heaven.' (Douglas Macarthur)
It was 11:45pm on a gloomy Monday night, and an excited Cynthia was putting the finishing touches on her sky blue baby shower invitations. Cynthia worked up a sweat from all of this activity, and then suddenly she felt a sharp pain in her lower abdomen. At that moment she immediately woke her husband Matthew with a loud shrill that sounded like “The baby is coming!”. Matthew thought he was still dreaming until he felt a hard thud on the top of his head, and opened his eyes to his wife’s pale face that was as bright as a ghost. Matthew did not know what to think, this was his first child, his first everything and he was nowhere near ready to become a new father. Matthew still had a lot of bottled in information about himself that he has yet
I said, "goodbye" to the nurse and left that awful place. Outside, I took a deep breath of cool fresh air. I practically ran to get inside my safe car. When back inside i cried in excruciating pain, I couldn't even feel my face. I sat there for a while thinking of those three terrifying words, Dr. Rust's office. I inserted the key into my ignition, turned it and drove away. When I knew I was home safe, I looked into my rear-view mirror. When I saw that old rickety building filled with bad experiences, I realized that that had been the most uncomfortable place I had ever visited, and I surely wasn't going to return.
To wives and slaves; and, wide as his command, Scattered his Maker's image through the land. (l. 1-10)
I wake up in this room. My mother is to my left crying with her face in the palms of her hands. My dad, he paces the floor with his hands in his pockets. I am scared I can barely remember what has transpired. As my mother stands and looks at me square in the eyes, the nurse comes and says with a grin on her radiant face “Hello, Mr. Howard. How are you feeling?” I attempt to sit up, but my body is aching. My dad hurries over to help, but it was no use the pain was overbearing. I began to weep and apologize. My dad with a stern look on his face says, “Andra, you are fine now just relax”. How could I relax? I am stuck in this room with no memory of what happened.