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Effect of stress in our life
Effects of stress in our life
Effects of stress in our life
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“If we had found it any later, he would have died,” my dad’s doctor told my mother; it took the hospital too long to realized that my dad’s appendix had ruptured. The hospital had kept misdiagnosing him, and they were now trying to convince my mom the hospital wasn’t at fault. At the time, I was only eleven years old, and I was too naïve to know what was going on. However, I could see that everyone in my family was stressed about my father’s surgery he just had and his condition. In the past few days my mother had only been home for an hour a day to take a shower and have a snack. I would see her hands tremble, the bags beneath her eyes grow increasingly dark, and the color in her face disappear like her appetite. She looked so fragile and stressed, and I had no idea why she was so upset. I honestly believed that my dad just needed to spend some time in the hospital. I hadn’t seen him since he was admitted into the hospital, but I knew that he was strong enough to battle any sickness. It was now Thanksgiving break and my sister and I only wanted to go visit our father. One day, my sister and I were finally able to go see him, and that’s when everything changed.
My sister, who had turned sixteen a few months before, drove us to the hospital in Davis. Little did I know that it would become a route that I would become very familiar with. I was filled with so much anticipation that the drive felt like two hours, even though it’s really only twenty minutes. As we pulled up to the hospital, I noticed a large gray cloud over the hospital. Everything seemed to be colder, and a depressing feeling washed over me. We stepped out of the car and I was instantly hit with a cold breeze. Wind blew through the bare trees, and we hurried into the ...
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... told “your dad is about to die.” However, my mom tells us now that she knew that my dad was dying, and she was scared that she was going to have to live without him. During the hospitalization, my sister and I only saw my dad motivated and trying to become stronger. However, now we know that there were times when he felt defeated and wanted to give up. He tells us that we were his reason to keep going, and I couldn’t be more proud to call him my dad. Now I see my dad’s hospitalization as a time when my family all worked together and overcame a huge obstacle. It has given me faith that my family can overcome any obstacle thrown at us. That Thanksgiving Day is truthfully my favorite memory. It was a day of hope and rejoice, and it made me see that I had so much to be thankful for. I am thankful that my dad got to live and will get to live a happy, appendix free life.
cold, harsh, wintry days, when my brothers and sister and I trudged home from school burdened down by the silence and frigidity of our long trek from the main road, down the hill to our shabby-looking house. More rundown than any of our classmates’ houses. In winter my mother’s riotous flowers would be absent, and the shack stood revealed for what it was. A gray, decaying...
I wasn’t even outside but I could feel the warm glow the sun was projecting all across the campsite. It seemed as if the first three days were gloomy and dreary, but when the sun on the fourth day arose, it washed away the heartache I had felt. I headed out of the trailer and went straight to the river. I walked to the edge, where my feet barely touched the icy water, and I felt a sense of tranquility emanate from the river. I felt as if the whole place had transformed and was back to being the place I loved the most. That day, when we went out on the boat, I went wakeboarding for the first time without my grandma. While I was up on the board and cutting through the wake of the boat, it didn’t feel like the boat was the one pulling and guiding me, it felt like the river was pushing and leading me. It was always nice to receive the reassurance from my grandma after wakeboarding, but this time I received it from my surroundings. The trees that were already three times the size of me, seemed to stand even taller as I glided past them on the river. The sun encouraged me with its brightness and warmth, and the River revitalized me with its powerful currents. The next three days passed by with ease, I no longer needed to reminisce of what my trips used to be like. Instead, I could be present in the moment, surrounded by the beautiful natural
At age twelve I started middle school. To me life was still as simple as it would be for a fifth grader. But when I was twelve, the month December would bring the cruel realities of the world down on me. My grandfather officially had dementia, I would move away from my child home, to Pocasset, Oklahoma to take care him. This was my first passage into adulthood. This is when I learned how to go through hard situations and not letting work fall behind, that hard times will come, but that won’t stop me from the important things. This was the first time I understood, how hard adulthood could be.
Tears flooded my face as I let her hand go. I love my mother dearly, but without father I had to be the head of the house. The one to take charge in times like these. She was in not in a good place of mind to be rational. Why had father forsaken us like this, why couldn't we just go home and be with him. The thoughts swirled around my head but the next thing I knew was mother laying on the ground in pain. Her face crinkled and puffy as she clenched her stomach in the delicate hands.
The car ride to their house was dead silent. When we had gotten to their house, they sat us down and told us the horrible news, Daddy was in the hospital. I sat there in shock for a moment to really understand what they had told me. Then when I understood what was said, my heart fell to my toes. I busted out into tears. I didn’t know what was wrong with him. I didn’t understand why he was in that place. He was fine this morning, he brought us to Nana and Poppy’s house and he was healthy. How could he be sick?? For the next few days, I wasn’t myself. The days that he was gone, I couldn’t eat or sleep. I was too worried to even go to school, but I had to go. I didn’t play with my friends on the playground, I couldn’t take naps, and I didn’t even want to color. My friends knew what was going on and they tried to help, but the only thing that could help was my Daddy being okay. While he was there, I didn’t get to go see him once. I hated not seeing my Daddy. I just wanted my best friend home with me. A few days had passed and he finally came home. I was so excited when he came home. I thought, “Finally, things can go back to normal.” I didn’t believe that anything would change. The day after he came home I overheard Mom telling Nana and Poppy what the doctor told her, “He had a mini stroke. And if doesn’t stop smoking, he wouldn’t live much
I believed that the day I received the news that my Aunt Teresa was missing would be the worst day of my life. It was three days later that I found out how wrong I was. My mind was contemplating my spelling and math worksheet that I had received for homework as I walked through the front door of my home. As I entered the house, I could tell something was wrong. However, I ignored the feeling as my mother informed me that she had something she needed to tell me. Quickly setting my backpack down in my room, I scurried back into the living room to hear what my mother wanted to tell me. “They found Aunt Teresa.”, my mother informed me in a shaky voice. Spirits soaring at this information, I took in my mother’s distraught expression with the
The baby blue sky held a golden sun whose rays gave off the perfect amount of heat. It was a pretty nice day for the end of December. Who would’ve thought that day would be one I’d never forget? I was going through my day like every other 7th grader at JRG, when I was told my mom would pick me up at 2:15. Instantly, my brain filled with ideas as to why my mom would come get me early. Were we going up north? No, I was never told to pack -- they wouldn’t just spring that on me. Were we taking a trip to Milwaukee? No, again, they never told me to pack. Idea after idea flowed through my brain, but none of them made any sense. Finally, the clock hit 2:10 and I was released from class to get my stuff from my
Nancy was only four years old when her grandmother died. Her grandmother had a big lump on the lower right hand side of her back. The doctors removed it, but it was too late. The tumor had already spread throughout her body. Instead of having a lump on her back, she had a long stitched up incision there. She couldn’t move around; Nancy’s parents had to help her go to the bathroom and do all the simple things that she use to do all by herself. Nancy would ask her grandmother to get up to take her younger sister, Linh, and herself outside so they could play. She never got up. A couple of months later, an ambulance came by their house and took their grandmother away. That was the last time Nancy ever saw her alive. She was in the hospital for about a week and a half. Nancy’s parents never took them to see her. One day, Nancy saw her parents crying and she have never seen them cry before. They dropped Linh and her off at one of their friend’s house. Nancy got mad because she thought they were going shopping and didn’t take her with them.
My rosy pink, baby cheeks lay against the chilling cold window instantly cooling down my burning face. My dark, dull brown eyes stared blankly out into the gloomy blue sky. I saw autumn approaching fast with the multicolored leaves flying wherever the strong blowing wind decided to take them. I started recapping the goodbye’s I had to say to my friends, family and my childhood “boyfriend.” I grew an irritating anger towards my father, for, at the time, I was too young to fully understand; it was not his fault. After seeing my heated glare at him, my father promise me that we would never move again. He assumed that I would make friends in no time.
Have you ever been brought down by some incident that you never thought you could overcome? Scoliosis at two years old meant nothing to me. As I continued older, the curve was getting worse. My parents kept taking me to get it checked until the doctors said I should start wearing a brace to slow the curve, little did I know, that was not the end of my problems, only the beginning. After four years with multiple braces my parents took me to A. I. DuPont hospital. I went there for a year but then my parents ended up getting a divorce. I stopped going to the doctors. In the meantime, my curve was getting worse and I couldn't even sit for five minutes. My dad then took me to Geisinger where they told me I needed immediate surgery because my spine
It was July 22nd when I got the phone call that my great grandma was in the hospital. It was so shocking to me I didn’t even know what to think I had just been up there to see her two days ago prior to then. My dad had called me and told me in a calm but of course I know my dad to well to know that he was calm but actually pretty scared and frantic. I was at work and a perk to my job is that I work at a family owned business that is actually close to my family.
I stood at the end of the driveway with a bag of clothes and my little sisters by my side. My dad pulled up, we got in the truck, and we drove about 10 minutes until we got to his shop. This would seem like a normal day, but things were different this time. We weren 't at the shop to ride the four wheelers around or to play basketball in the garage or to mess with the pinball machines. There was a gloomy feel about everything around us. Even though I didn’t say anything, I knew things were changing.
It was June 6, 2011. I remember taking my mother to the County Hospital’s emergency room. She seemed extremely exhausted; her eyes were half-closed and yellow, and she placed her elbow on the armchair, resting her head on her palm. I remember it was crowded and the wait was long, so she wanted to leave. I was the only one there with her, but I did not allow her to convince me to take her home. I told her in Spanish, “Mom, let’s wait so that we can get this over with and know what’s going on with you. You’ll see everything is okay, and we’ll go home later on.” I wish then and now that would have been the case. Unfortunately, she was diagnosed with colon cancer that had spread to many parts of her body including her lungs and kidneys. The doctor said to me not considering that I was a minor and my mother’s daughter, “Her disease is very advanced and we don’t think she will live longer than a year.” With this devastating news, I did not know what to do. I thought to myself that perhaps I should cry, or try to forget and take care of her as best I could and make her laugh to ease her pain.
As I walked in to their bedroom, I found my mother sitting on the bed, weeping quietly, while my father lay on the bed in a near unconscious state. This sight shocked me, I had seen my father sick before, but by the reaction of my mother and the deathly look on my father’s face I knew that something was seriously wrong.
It was Friday night, I took a shower, and one of my aunts came into the bathroom and told me that my dad was sick but he was going to be ok. She told me that so I did not worry. I finished taking a bath, and I immediately went to my daddy’s house to see what was going on. My dad was throwing-up blood, and he could not breath very well. One of my aunts cried and prayed at the same time. I felt worried because she only does that when something bad is going to happen. More people were trying to help my dad until the doctor came. Everybody cried, and I was confused because I thought it was just a stomachache. I asked one of my older brothers if my dad was going to be ok, but he did not answer my question and push me away. My body shock to see him dying, and I took his hand and told him not to give up. The only thing that I heard from him was, “Daughters go to auntie...