Personal Narrative: My Family Bike Ride

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I never would have thought that a nice family bike ride during the summer with the new dog would have turned into a nightmare of hospitals, ambulances, and major surgeries. The day that I broke my arm was the most shocking and traumatic day of my life and still incredibly affects to this day in many ways. It was the summer of 2010. I had just turned seven, and gotten a new puppy for my birthday. My mom, dad, the dog and I were all on our first family bike ride all together. At the time, I knew no fear. I loved heights, scary movies, and big rollercoasters. It took quite a lot to scare me, and there was nothing in the world that I didn’t want to try. One of my favorite things was climbing trees, especially vast ones with lots of branches.
As we were riding, I spotted a tree that looked perfect for me. I asked my mom if we could stop so I
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My parents put me in a wheelchair (prep. phrase) and wheeled me in. The woman at the front desk let us cut to the front of the line because of how bad my arm looked. Then, they had to take x-rays, which was probably worse than the actual fall. The woman doing them had to keep moving my arm around, and the pain was unbearable. She kept promising it was the last one, but it was always a lie. Being the seven-year-old I was, I was furious that she kept breaking promises. (part. phrase)
After they analyzed the x-rays, the hospital told my parents that there was nothing they could do, it was the worst broken arm they’d ever seen, and I needed to get surgery at John’s Hopkins. If I didn’t, one of my arms would be longer than the other for the rest of my life. My parents were shocked, and my mom got sick. They wheeled me out in a stretcher into the ambulance, and I remember it was raining, and I kept thinking I was going to fall. I was on a lot of pain medication, so I didn’t really know what was happening or where I was, and I kept drifting in and out of
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