Terry knew that aches and pains are common in athlete’s lives. At the end of his first year of university there was a new pain in his knee. One morning Terry woke up to see that he could no longer stand up. A week later Terry found out that it was not just an ache he had a malignant tumor; his leg would have to be cut off six inches above the knee. Terry’s doctor told him that he had a chance of living but the odds were fifty to seventy percent. He also said that he should be glad it happened now fore just 2 years ago the chance of living was fifteen percent. The night before his operation a former coach brought Terry a magazine featuring a man who ran a marathon after a similar operation. Terry didn’t want to do something small if he was going to do something he was going to do it big. "I am competitive" Terry said, "I’m a dreamer. I like challenges. I don’t give up. When I decided to do it, I knew it was going to be all out. There was no in between Terry’s sixteen month follow up he saw all the young people suffering and getting weak by the disease. He never forgot what he saw and felt burdened to thoughts that died to run this marathon. He was one of the lucky one in three people to survive in the cancer clinics. Terry wrote asking for sponsorship " I could not leave knowing that these faces and feelings would still be here even though I would be set free of mine, s...
I slowly walked into the hospital room, a little timid and nervous. As I entered he turned around and our eyes met. A little smile crept across his face, although I could tell he was in a great deal of pain. My family went to see him nearly every Sunday, we had our usual conversation about how school and sports were going. It was time to go and I slowly pushed myself out of my seat dreading another goodbye. I couldn’t help but have a few tears roll down my face. He saw and said, “Amber, there’s no need to worry. I’m fighting strong in order to see you and the rest of my grandchildren grow
The book is written by Pamela Tucker Burton, an ordinary person who experienced the death of four family members, she shares her experiences and how a family stay positive, when they faced a deadly disease. In Pamela’s family were no cancer survivors, there were no encouraging sentiments to alleviate their pain. For a family with strong Christian beliefs the only healing and strength for their family was to pray, don’t be afraid and be spiritually prepared for the final journey.
The ride home had been the most excruciating car ride of my life. Grasping this all new information, coping with grief and guilt had been extremely grueling. As my stepfather brought my sister and I home, nothing was to be said, no words were leaving my mouth.Our different home, we all limped our ways to our beds, and cried ourselves to sleep with nothing but silence remaining. Death had surprised me once
Cannabis. It’s been called everything from “Weed from the Devil’s Garden” to “the happy little herb”. Cannabis, which is also called Marijuana, has a known history that dates back over 10,000 years. The oldest remnant of the industry of mankind is a little piece of hemp cloth/fabric that dates back to around 8,000 B.C. (website, HIA: Resources: Education: FAQs & Facts: Facts).
It was a normal Saturday morning everything was going swell until, I awoke up from my slumber only to be left alone at home with my brother. In that short moment where my brother and I were left alone at home to survive I started to panic and overthink the worst-case scenario might happen. That our parents left us to fend for ourselves and we had to endure the up-coming obstacles that would soon arrive. In this experience, I learned not to overthink but to also be patient in and not make hasty decisions.
This sense of care was called upon when a woman grabbed my arm to ask “My dad is going to be ok isn’t he?” while I was scribing in the Good Samaritan hospital. The 78 year old father was suspected of having a heart attack, but I had to ease her worry. “Yes he is going to be okay. The doctor thinks he is having a heart attack, but…” and at that point she started crying. I took ahold of her hand, and gave it a warm squeeze. I knew, from when my mother had cancer, that the unknown outcome of a loved one evokes a horrible sense of worry and fear. She needed reassurance that her dad will be ok. While her tearful eyes looked at me, I comforted and stayed by her side until she stopped crying. The woman thanked me and hugged me tight. I wasn’t sure what to do, but I tried to put myself in her shoes to ease her worry and guilt.
Some memories are best forgotten, but it takes courage to go through them. Often, I wish to forget the day when I almost lost my parents in a tragic car accident. As my world came crumbling down, I prayed and hoped that the nightmare would soon end. I endlessly fought the sense of helplessness, isolation and fear of the uncertainty. I was 19 and clueless. Nevertheless, I sailed through these dreadful days and welcomed my parents home after six long months. In the months that followed my parent’s return, I juggled between taking care of my parents, graduating college and adjusting to my new job. Almost 10 years later, this dark phase still has a phenomenal impact on me. Perhaps, because this specific experience transformed me into a grateful,
and was headed home. One older man, who was texting and driving, sped into my stopped car going 70 mph. I was hit by his truck and another vehicle, and as a result, I was ejected out of the back windshield of my car. I ended up with a fractured neck and compression fractures down my spine. I was on bed rest for four months which gave me plenty of time to think about my life. I’m not telling you this story to make you feel sorry for me, not at all. The wreck has to be explained for you to understand how I got here, writing this essay. I found out the reason I flew out of my car was because the driver’s seat in my car had broken upon impact, and I slipped right out from under the seatbelt. When I got out of the hospital and went to look at my car, I was shocked to see the damage done. The driver’s seat was broken and leaning back, the seat belt was still buckled, and under the seatbelt laid my grandfather’s funeral obituary that had been in my center console at the very bottom. To me, that was a sign that God or someone up there saved my life that day. I was told by the doctors I was lucky to be alive, let alone still
On the day my father died, I remember walking home from school with my cousin on a November fall day, feeling the falling leaves dropping off the trees, hitting my cold bare face. Walking into the house, I could feel the tension and knew that something had happened by the look on my grandmother’s face. As I started to head to the refrigerator, my mother told me to come, and she said that we were going to take a trip to the hospital.