It wasn’t that it was a Monday morning or that I couldn’t sleep that devastated me. No, it was a simple phone call that turned my life upside down. The call was about my grandpa having a minor heart attack and was being transported to Abbott Northwestern hospital in Minneapolis. I dropped my thoughts and stood dazed for a moment. I had so many questions, but I needed to get down to the cities was on the very top of my list. My mother told me to pack a bag so we could leave immediately. I had no time for tears but I felt a lump in my throat the whole way down to the cities. For the most part it seemed fake, how could this even happen? Once in the enormously huge hospital, we asked for help finding his room. We stepped into the gold elevators and went up to the fifth floor. As I stepped into his room, he was laying on his bed in a hospital gown which was very chilling to see. My grandpa was doing fine, just waiting for his doctor to come in and explain what was going on. They could not perform surgery because of medication he received at the hospital in Crosby for the heart …show more content…
The surgery that was needed is called a bypass surgery. Essentially surgeons will use veins from the leg, then take the vein and bypass the blockage and reattach. My grandpa needed not one bypass, but four. Dr. Mudy, the heart surgeon (pronounced Moody) told us that one bypass surgery is a big operation, a four bypass is extremely risky. The news still was alarming, but surgery needed to be done as soon as possible. Another pressing issue was my grandpa’s aortic valve and the top part of the aorta would need to be replaced. Again any open heart surgery is extremely nerve racking and scary. Also the mortality rate for my grandpa given his unique conditions was about twenty-two percent. That night was the first time I cried since being down there. My grandpa wasn’t just my grandpa he was practically the dad I never
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.
Although I endured a similar experience, I had a totally different reaction when my father died in 2006. I could not be by his side because of extenuating circumstances, but I was emotionally distraught and concerned with my father’s passing
I received the call that my brother had overdosed when I was going to a haunted house with a couple of my friends. My mother had not known the severity and told me not to worry. Steven had overdosed in the past so I was not as concerned as I should have been. My friends and I kept on with our festivities and then they dropped me off at my house. There was no one home and I became distressed. When I called my mother she told me to just go to bed and that they would be home soon. I forced myself to sleep. I was in a daze when my mother and father came into my room to tell me that my brother was dead. I don’t know what happened in my brain, but I could not talk and I could not cry. I believe I brushed it off as an awful nightmare. My unconscious demeanor scared my parents so they kept sending people in my room trying to get through to me. I woke up to my best friend hugging me, not saying a word, and then she left. I woke up to my grandma holding my hand with tears flowing down her eyes, not saying a word, and then she left. I woke to my godmother speaking about grief and how I needed to believe that he was gone, and then she left. How was I supposed to believe that my brother was no longer on this earth? I sat there on my bed alone as the idea of my brother dying crept into my mind. My heart began to literally ache. I cried hysterically for hours on hours. It has been a year since he has passed and it doesn’t get any
In the larger picture, weight loss surgeries have become “the fast food” response to weight loss demands by the public. In my opinion, many patients are using weight loss surgeries as the weight loss mean rather than their own self-control and self-discipline; instead of for use by those who couldn’t lose weight by any other way. Unfortunately, not all the participants need the weight loss surgeries, and not all receive a long lasting benefit from the surgeries. As obesity spikes nationwide, so does the use (and potential abuse by overuse) of surgical procedures for weight loss.
One summer I awoke to the chirping of my cell phone. I was really confused because I had a bunch of notifications. On a normal day I usually only have a couple. When I checked to see what they were, I discovered that they were all concerning my best friend. They all said “I’m so sorry for what happened.” I got really confused and stumbled down the stairs to talk to my mom. When I saw her, she had tears running down her face and she said “He’s gone.” My emotions hit me like a runaway train and I immediately went into a depression. The grieving process had just started and it was awful. Eventually, I knew it was necessary in order to heal. Grief marks our memories with sadness and pain; however, this way of coping is the essential key to moving on with our lives.
I figured someone had passed away, but I didn't think much of it. My father spoke to me in a very calm and soft voice with tears in his eyes. In between his words you could hear the hurt. He told me that my godmother had passed away. I sat there not knowing what to say, but could feel the hurt overwhelm me.
It was about 1:30am and the only people in the Emergency Waiting Room were my mother and I and a couple that looked like they had been there for a while. I sat there staring at the walls that resembled a jail cell for what felt like hours. And that was the particular moment that I realized the channel had been switched forever. I had gone from a girl who had never lost a loved one to a girl who had almost lost her only sister. All I could think of was all of the “what ifs?” What if I had already gone to bed and no one in my family woke up to the answering machine? What if that man didn’t work a late night and someone else with bad intentions got to her first? What if she had been driving a little faster and got knocked unconscious when that deer jumped in front of her car? What if she never woke
This experience happened doing my fourth surgical procedure so it was not exposure to a new or unfamiliar situation. I would attribute my abnormal behavior as a reaction to anesthesia, but unfortunately this experience has become a new normal for me post-surgery. My behavior took place after I received the pre-surgery anesthesia, and as I was entering the operating room. This was the first time that I was not fully under before being moved to the operating room. Something different happened during this procedure and upon entering the operating room, I experienced extreme anxiety/claustrophobia or most likely panic attack when I observed what appeared to me as the tiniest room ever. Psychically, I tried to get up from the bed as I desperately wanted to get out of the room and far away. I experienced a racing heart rate, my chest being squeezed tightly as if to remove all remaining air, and extreme fear as it felt like the medical personnel were restraining me while they placed the gas mask on, end of recollection. Fast forward to recovery approximately 8 hours after a normal 2-hour procedure. The procedure went as expected, it was post recovery where I encountered complications. [Post-surgery remarks explained to me by medical staff and wife] during recovery, it was as if I were
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
It was just a normal day, or so I thought. After school, my guy friend and I went to the lake in Grenada in hopes to escape from reality. I remember the moment as if it happened yesterday. Around, my mother called me. Considering my mom rarely calls me, I already knew what was about to be said. When I answered the phone, all I could hear was crying. My mom could barely get her words out. After a few seconds of hearing her cry, she finally said those four words that I had been dreading for the past five months. “Aunt Patty has died,” my mom said. At this moment, I was at a loss for words. All I knew to do was to hang up the phone and cry. Thankfully my guy friend knew exactly what was said over the phone and allowed me to just sit there and cry. I might not have seen my aunt much during this terrible journey because of school and distance, but this news devastated me. I had never cried so much in my life, especially in front of
It was a Monday night; I remember it like it was yesterday. I had just completed my review of Office Administration in preparation for my final exams. As part of my leisure time, I decided to watch my favorite reality television show, “I love New York,” when the telephone rang. I immediately felt my stomach dropped. The feeling was similar to watching a horror movie reaching its climax. The intensity was swirling in my stomach as if it were the home for the butterflies. My hands began to sweat and I got very nervous. I could not figure out for the life of me why these feelings came around. I lay there on the couch, confused and still, while the rings continued. My dearest mother decided to answer this eerie phone call. As she picked up, I sat straight up. I muted the television in hopes of hearing what the conversation. At approximately three minutes later, the telephone fell from my mother’s hands with her faced drowned in the waves of water coming from her eyes. She cried “Why?” My Grandmother had just died.
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.
Years ago I had the most terrifying, shocking day of my life. I had between seven or eight years when this happened. The day before the accident, all my family was at my grandfather’s house. We all were eating the food my mother and my aunts brought, telling jokes at the dinner table. Meanwhile, I was playing with my cousins in the backyard. Everyone was enjoying the family meeting. As the time passed by and everyone was about to go home, my mother suggested the idea that we all should go at my grandparent’s ranch next day, since everyone was in town we all could have the chance to go. Everyone liked the idea. It was the perfect time to go because it was a weekend. As they all agreed to go, they begun to decide who bring what to the gathering. Who would have thought that thanks to that suggestion, I would lead me to the hospital the day of the reunion.
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.
Oh my God! TJ!“ It was just my mom.She was crying and calling my name again and again.I was so embarrassed and disappointed of my self.I had let her down. After, two of the EMT guys put us on an ambulance. Finally,we made our way to the hospital. My friend john and me were sent in palo alto medical center. It took us about fifteen minute to get there. My friend john was alright. He had a couple of stitches in his head and his arm. He got relieved after a couple of tests but, I was severely injured. I was lying on a hospital bed and thinking what I would have done in the past. Cause this terrible accident happened to me. I was sent to el camino hospital, where I went to the operation theater for my hipbones surgery.The doctor told me after surgery that my hipbones was fractured the reason they had to put a plate in hipbones to stay together.Although, my left arm was also fractured the reason I could not feel my arm. After surgery, they took me to the other room and gave me a couple of injections. Momentarily, I went to sleep. I woke up in the next day and thinking hopefully it was just a dream,but it’s not. I opened my eyes and saw a couple of relative looking me like a stranger. My dad came over my bed and gave me a hug and I literally started crying after thinking about the accident. I could not believe after a massive car accident I was still alive. Doctors kept in hospital couple of