I'm young. 18 years old to be exact, but my heart and mind say otherwise.
At a younger age I was never able to understand most things that were brought upon my life. I was constantly facing new struggles that kids I was surrounded by weren’t dealing with and may never have to. I grew up surrounded by medical terms, doctors, and hospitalizations. I became familiar with medication lists so long that they consumed 3 full pages.
My whole life I have been raised through challenges, broken dreams, and learning to adapt to new lifestyles time and time again. As I began to get older and wiser I learned to accept my fate in life, I learned to face difficulties with nothing but a positive outlook, and I learned that there is no way to change your past, but there are ways to make your present and future worthwhile.
There have been times where I was not able to keep my vigorous frame of mind. In these moments I would feel myself slowly drowning in sorrow, defeat, but most of all, guilt. I felt guilty because, even though I may not have been in the best situation, I was far better off than some people in this world. These are the moments that have helped define who I am. People will hear my infectious laugh during my most difficult intervals, I will have an everlasting smile on my face when all I want to do is break down, and no matter what is going on in my life, I am always putting forth the effort into making others happy.
For me to be able to say that I am satisfied with myself, life, and all of its entities is a wondrous feeling and gift. Every day I fight the odds and live with a mad, passionate determination, which no matter what, will never be destroyed.
I’m young. 18 years old to be exact, but my heart and mind say otherwise.

Wednesday, August 15, 2012

5 senses of hospitalizations.

I smell the strong antiseptic upon entering the building as it burns my nose.
Chlorascrub swabs ring flashbacks of numerous procedures as I'm being scrubbed to diminish any form of bacteria.
After the toxic I.V. antibiotics settle into my body there's a familiar scent caused by them that overcomes everything- My breath, skin, clothes, and especially the air that circulates around me.

I taste the blandness that the medications have caused.
During every infusion of antibiotics, saline, and heparin there is a cold bitterness that succumbs to the back of my mouth.
Ice water slides down my throat as I wash down the numerous pills that all engage in some form of aid for my frail, pathetic body.

I feel flashes of heat along with beads of perspiration in my below 60 degree room while the toxins run through my veins.
Multiple pricks of sharp needles on a daily basis have allowed me to become accustomed to the feeling- no more fear, no more flinches, no more pain.
I am confined by tubing that in the end, is my answer for better health- Oxygen, nebulizers, IV machines, and feeding pumps.

I hear the laughs, cries, muffles, disappointment, and excitement of many forms of people in the halls as I lay in my closed off, isolated room.
In any instant the beeping from my IV pump will set off ringing in my ears while I wait for proper assistance.
"Get better," "I'm sorry," and "How do you feel?" are bittersweet gestures that bring an unwanted cringe.

I see the plain white that validates most objects- Walls, floors, blankets, lab coats, cups.
Concerned looks amongst family, friends, nurses, respiratory therapists, and doctors send a signal of weariness and sorrow.
Young, innocent lives are painfully being destroyed by sickness and you see the results as kids walk around halls with IV poles, oxygen, and masks.

No comments:

Post a Comment