But If at times we feel like we have run out of love and/or happiness and someone comes along and offers us just a bit we reach out to snatch it up. We reach for all that we can get even if it comes at a high price. So often we begin bad relationships just because we feel we are lacking love and happiness and we want so badly for someone to share just a bit of theirs with us. As hard as it may seem at times what we really need is to accept ourselves and be happy with who we are. Then we will never need another being to make us feel that way.
February 26 I went into the surgery room, frightened of something going wrong. It was a rough two weeks, harder than any conditioning or the flu I have ever had. The pain was unbearable. With every move of my hip, ankle or knee came a sharp pain, bringing tears to my eyes and me calling for my mom. Soon came therapy;The most boring and uncomfortable thing someone could experience.
All throughout middle school when we were assigned to read a novel I would dread it. My perspective of reading for enjoyment soon changed when I was in eighth grade. Mrs. Benavides, my eighth grade language arts teacher, assigned our class to read The Outsiders, and I coursed I was complained in my head, I don’t want to read (actually pretend to read and then use Sparknotes) another lame book. The first day we got the book we were all told to read chapters 1 through 3, and this time all of the kids in my class complained and I wasn’t the only one. So, there I was at home in front of my computer typing in “the outsiders by S.E Hinton”, into Google, and the top search that popped up was a link to the movie on Youtube.
I never really fully cried, but I did loose a lot of sleep after my grandparents death. My mother was worried for a while because I would not sleep and my health was beginning to diminish. She ended up taking me to the doctor and they declared that I was suffering from insomnia. There was no explanation, but I knew that I was still grieving my grandparents, it was the only way that I could; since no one would know that I would cry in the middle of the night. About a couple of months later, everything was beginning to go back to normal, I still do not have the courage to speak about my grandmother or grandfather without shedding a tear.
Being only six months old at the time of such a tragic event, I was not aware of the innocent lives being taken, heartbreaks, or prayers being said for loved one’s to live, with much sorrow in their voices, as I laid there in my cradle so unaware sleeping soundly. As years past, I began learning about 9/11 in school over the intercom for the morning announcements. Later throughout my education, my history teachers began teaching this attack as lessons. The cracking in their voices while holding back tears was heartbreaking to watch and learn as they went on with the lesson. In middle school, a classmate of mine told our class about how her dad’s friend had lost his life from the collapse.
I knew it was only going to get worse as the years went on so i practiced english like crazy. I would watch tv and listen to music all the time to really pick up how the said some words. my speech therapy teacher said she saw a lot of improvement in me over the summer. By the end of eighth grade i spoke english perfectly. High school will be different, and it was no one made fun of me or made me feel like i did not belong in america.
Mama thinks I’m crazy and she kicked me out. My vicious thoughts towards my father grew over time. Now I know it sounds weird to go to college for nursing and have vicious thoughts, but ever since I was a little kid, I didn’t want toddlers or babies to have to live through the thought of monsters hurting things you love. Age 22 I had lost my thoughts back when I was a sophomore in college. My college years are over and I’m trying to get in to a hospital to start working a real job.
In the novel, The Glass Castle, Jeannette Walls faces many challenges that seemed impossible to overcome much like I have during my middle school years. Jeannette in her younger years had to deal with poverty and bullying that I have to imagine caused much distress and pain in her life. While my story and Jeannette’s aren’t that similar, they both are about pain and challenges that we had to overcome. In my case, my hardships began around the beginning of seventh grade. I had to deal with horrible surgery recovery and things going wrong in my body.
During my last year of Middle School I was diagnosed with depression. This illness caused me to discourage my abilities and it deeply affected my social skills. At the same time I was also being bullied by other kids at school. I remember silently crying every day as I walked home from the bus stop. When I was first diagnosed, the doctors told me that isolating the problem was a good thing.
To maintain the continuous lab draws of the hospital, there needs to be two to three trained Phlebotomists on staff for the shift. On this day in particular, it was only myself and an untrained Phlebotomist, so I had to pick up all the slack of my new co-worker and double my speed. I was very stressed and having a horrible day altogether. I have loved being a Phlebotomist, but I have spent some of my worst and most stressful days being one as well. After this day I tried to learn to overlook some minor mistakes, because I Glodowski 3 know they are generally not the new persons’ intentions.