My hand slapped against the bare rock, the cold already etching away the remaining heat my body possessed. I let out a gasp, desperately trying to take in a breath. It was difficult, and each breath brought pain to my body.
Henrietta Lack was an African American woman born in 1920 who helped science define some of the world’s medical discoveries. Many woman were dying every year from cervical cancer. Little did she know what the future held for her and millions of other people. This situation saddens me as a medical professional because a human was treated as a specimen rather than a person. Even though this was many decades ago, I feel as though there still should have been standard practices in place that prevented this kind of behavior from those who are supposed to be trusted most, health care professionals. The article we had to read in a previous assignment is a wonderful account of Henrietta Lacks life and the impact she made on the world today. It
Relaxed in the dental chair with my dark glasses on, I had been prepped and was ready for my second surgery. My headphones played beautiful, calming classical music. A micro-current patch placed behind each of my ears would help to keep me in a relaxed state. I could taste the remnants of the orange flavored supplements used to promote the relaxation response. My biological dentist and his assistant talked in the background as we waited for the anesthetic to take effect. In this second surgery, I would have the two root canals removed from my front left tooth and the incisor tooth.
For a moment everything was frozen, and the wind blew softer as if it were singing me a lullaby. I barely registered the blood gushing out of the wound through the entire length of my shin. My body went numb as I blankly stared into the treetops above me, swaying in delight as the leaves danced in the wind before scattering the forest floor. My limbs were sprawled out around me at different angles and it wasn’t until my brother’s face appeared in my vision that I snapped out of it. A gut-wrenching pain flared up the side of my right leg, leaving me to howl in agony as T knelt down and carried me like a infant in a mother’s
Surrounded by sterile white walls in a plain paper gown, I quickly glanced at the worried look on my mother’s face from my periphery. I knew for sure this was not going to end well for me. As the doctors examined my skin, all my ten-year-old mind could think of was how I had gotten out of school for the day. I was clueless as to the long-term effects this doctor visit would have on me.
The patient is a 64 year old female who presented to the ED with acute psychosis. The patient denies suicidal ideation, homicidal ideation. Patient endorses seeing others in her hospital room and speaking with them. Patient does not appear to be exhibiting signs of agitation, aggression, or responding to internal stimuli.
I tried telling myself this was nothing more than a bad dream and pinched myself, hopelessly trying to wake up. I didn’t wake. All I felt was the pain on my arm, the fresh marks of my fingernails that had been dug into my skin. I felt a sudden pain in my chest, and fear flooded my mind. I could taste the salty drops running down my cheeks, drowning my eyes.
The information that has flooded my space since I asked for details of good sedation dentists near me has been inundating. The desire to get quality service did not begin as a result of a major health challenge. I believe in preventative measures and not just the curative aspects of medicine. Most people who understand my point of view have seen reasons why it is a good cause to pursue. The first time I had an encounter with a sedation dentist was over 7 years ago. I developed a fascination to understand all that entails in the world of dentists. A friend decided to take me on a crash course on all the different fields in dentistry.
Imagine yourself walking down a street in your neighborhood on a breezy-late afternoon. The wind is calm, and the air smells like freshly cut grass. The lawn next door is being mowed. You decide to walk down the street. Only five steps later, you step on a dormant landmine, and you are blasted away unconscious by the force of the landmine impact. When you resuscitate in the Intensive Care Unit of the parochial hospital three days later, you attempt to leave bed or at least escape the suffocating sheets. Your nose is flooded with chemicals. Your arm is skewered with painful pinpricks attached to a machine. You understand. You realize the plight of your being in this cataclysmic nightmare. You have lost your right arm. You have no legs. The prosthetic surgeon informs you that you’ll need sixty-thousand dollars if you
Her name is Tara O’Nally, a sixty-three year old woman who reminds me a lot of my grandmother. She’s waiting for me to say something as I examine her arm. Her skin is soft, delicate in my fingers. Her big, blue eyes follow my gaze as I move up to her shoulder. I lift up her arm and see the hives.
I never thought how someone becomes passionate about something. Now, I know. First, let me tell you I came upon in this fascination when I could not repress my most inner feelings with a stranger. It was in August the last summer, one of the hottest months I ever remember in my life when I; a high school student who had come from Spain recently, after a period of hesitancy, determined to go to Mercy Hospital. It would be my beginning as a volunteer at the Emergency Department. The day was not only such an inflection point in my existence, but also a realization moment due to the singularities of my last patient.
Dr. Onix squinted his eyes as he looked around the dimly lit room. The candles looked like firecrackers that illuminated the ominous painting hanging nearby. Besides the candles, and the paintings, and the desk, and the chairs, the doctor noticed nothing else in the vast room. It was just him, and realizing that he started to fidget in his seat. But the sound of footsteps coming out of nowhere startled him to ice. Wasn’t he alone?
The summer rays beating down on the sun dried grass, the faint ring of the tune of an ice cream truck is fading as it gets farther and farther away from our car. Mom and Dad are playing the license plate game in the front seat while I pull my white beaten up earbuds out of my pocket. As I am skipping through my playlist, I hear a quick scream that is soon cut off by a crash then everything fades. That is a day I will never forget, I can still remember every detail, being carried away by the paramedics, covered in glass shards and debris from the crash. A car had spun out of control and and sent us tumbling off the the long backroad into a nearby ditch. The driver of the other car had survived with some broken bones and cuts. Unfortunately I
The flow of nurses into the small hospital room seemed constant; if there wasn’t at least one here another could be expected to arrive soon. The continuous beeping noises coming from the machines all around the bed were getting into his head and it was hard to think straight.
"I'll give her everything we have-I'll teach her everything we know. She'll be perfect, we'll be perfect." She choked on her words as the pain overwhelmed her, she threw her head back harshly as she inhaled sharply.