Personal Narrative: My Medical Event

At the age of twelve, both of my parents were employed in the medical field. Resulting in their satisfaction for being in the medical field, I spent most of my

Other times were not even giving their patients a proper diagnosis. The

After nearly losing my eye, nearly having my veins and arteries give out, and watching my father become unresponsive, I knew that I wanted to go into the medical field. This became a part of my very being, I strove and strive to learn as much about first aid and treatments as I am able. As it came time for me to think on a career path I was forced to think about the logistics of college pricing and efficiency; I decided on going through an EMT course, attempting to get a job to pay for the rest of my schooling as a nurse or search and rescue

The doctor can come in and diagnosis a patient with no problem but, if a patient doesn’t feel respected, that satisfaction is gone, and most likely the patient won’t return. All of these skills combined will guarantee full patient satisfaction. The most important thing in the medical field is the patients. Our job is to make sure they leave feeling better physically and to leave a mental imprint of greatness, so they’ll always come

Whenever I was ill, my mom always tried to cure me with home remedies first but if nothing worked she took me to the clinic. When I was about 6 years old I was diagnosed with jaundice, I do not remember it clearly but I remember crying from stomach ache

I just didn’t understand why my dad didn’t want to be a family anymore and why he didn’t want anything to do with us kids. I hated him, every time he asked me to do something with him I would say I was busy when I wasn’t, or just not even answer. The divorce got finalized my sophomore year, and since I was 16 I didn’t have to see my dad on certain days I could just live with my

I chose this topic for a personal reason. One personal reason is because I was an eight-month-old baby when I was first placed in foster care. I was taken away from my biological mother when she decided to take me to the hospital. Once there the hospital staff diagnosed me with a severe bronchial infection on top of a severe skull fracture. When asked my biological mother couldn’t explain what happened and had multiple men that were not my biological father trying to give a reason for what had happened.

We tend to put our trust, in the hands of the doctors. Also families don’t tend to question the decisions or procedures doctors take when curing a patient. This reflects to my own family, because my mother is a great believer in doctors, in test results and also medicine.

When I was in third grade, I was diagnosed with a medical condition that required me to go to Children’s Hospital in Pittsburgh multiple times per month. It was boring, annoying, and sometimes painful. I never enjoyed going and that didn’t change as I got older. But when I just started going, I was very sick. Between the one hundred two-degree fever I had and the amount of blood they had to take out of me for tests, I felt miserable.

Misdiagnosed November was when the pain started. I was dizzy at church one Wednesday night. I did not think much of it. Though, now, I think I should have. Looking back, I should have mentioned it to someone there or I should gone home early, but I did not.

The peak of these illnesses came during one of the most important and stressful times in my high school career, junior year. I suddenly lost two of my grandparents, my parents were going through a divorce, which caused me to move out of my childhood home and into a new house with my mother and little brother, and I watched my father struggle with an illness. Fortunately, I was able to recover with the help of doctors, friends, and family. Through this experience, I learned I find the most happiness and contentment by keeping myself busy with things to benefit others and when I can use my expertise while contributing to a group or project. The happiness I have found while bringing the gift of community to those in need of it, through my service projects, is unlike any happiness I have ever felt before.

With being adopted, my medical history is like a lottery ticket. I just have to hope that my birth parents’ genetics will not pass on any life-threatening diseases to me and I will have to go through life seeing what is going to happen. I find that the more we understand

I couldn’t move my legs. I couldn’t move my hands. My family took me to the hospital and from there I was admitted as patient. As a little girl I was always very optimistic. Becoming a patient meant no more school and no more homework.

I broke my tibia, fibula and cracked my platelet in my ankle. My mom rushed me to a hospital where we waited two hours for me to be seen. After a while my mom got frustrated and very impatient she then helped me back into the car and rushed me to children’s hospital where they wheeled me to an emergency room and put me to sleep. They began to place my bones back into place.

Day two clinicals. This day went so much smoother. I had the same two patient as the day before and one got discharged and I got a new patient. I feel like my second day I had an amazing relationship with my one patient. I got her to eat a little more that day because I knew what to talk to her about. When people are happier they tend to eat more than being depressed. She really enjoyed my company. Since she had a stage 4 pressure ulcer, they got an air mattress bed. We had to move her out of her old bed onto this new bed. In which I was worried about because she was bed bound. We had more than enough people to help me accomplish this. I had about seven people help with this process. I am very grateful for all the help I receive for this. I got to help you mess with the