Thursday, May 14, 2020

Personal Narrative Personal Essay - 1173 Words

â€Å"Do not withhold good from those who deserve it when it’s in your power to help them†, (Bible Proverbs 3:27 NIV). Even in the midst of your heartache, it is important to help others. To love is to be selfless in the presence of someone else’s troubles. I remember it was a Tuesday night in October of 2015 and everything seemed normal. There was not a soul in sight and neither one to be heard. The house felt empty after everyone had gone to sleep while I stayed up late working on homework. It was about eleven ‘o’clock when I decided to go to bed. My dog chip always slept with me and my grandma in my room. Chip was asleep under the table and as usual I went to wake him up so that he could walk with me to the bedroom. It was then when I†¦show more content†¦Friday morning we got up early and took him the vet. The doctor called us in and he started off by injecting a pain reliever steroid in Chip because it was obvious he was uncomfortable. He felt that Chip had a tumor in his abdomen because it was inflamed so he requested that we leave Chip there all day so that they could further examine if it was cancerous or benign. When we went to pick up Chip the doctor gave us bad news that Chip had cancer and that he didn’t have much longer to live. Surgery was not an option because he was too old, the next best thing was to take him home and do our best to make him as comfortable as possible in his last days. In the moment when the doctor was saying all of these things I thought to myself, â€Å"how could this be and why now†. I was so focused on my emotions that everything was a blur, the doctor’s voice suddenly sounded unclear. In the middle of the doctor’s explanation I couldn’t take it anymore, I walked out of the room and went outside to cry. I held myself up on the side of the truck, I felt confused, sad, and hurt. I couldn’t even see, my eyes were filled with tears, I couldnâ⠂¬â„¢t hear, my ears were clogged, and it was hard to breathe because my nose was stopped up. Minutes later my brother came out carrying Chip and behind him was my grandma and my mother. We went home and for the next two weeks of Chip’s life I was his caregiver because everyone else was so devastated. In the midst of my devastationShow MoreRelatedPersonal Narrative : Personal Essay1395 Words   |  6 PagesI was laid on my bed after I bade Ri a goodnight. I was pondering about anything and everything. Thousands of thoughts were racing inside my head. But the most important question among them was, whether I should sleep or not. After the events of that night, a peaceful sleep seemed like a distant memory. Getting sleep terrors every night was being stressful, both physically and mentally. It drained and strained me from inside every time. All the events of that night were still alive and fresh in myRead More Personal Narrative: A Personal Essay1314 Words   |  6 Pagesacce nt. I looked down at my single sentence with relief. That was the beginning of my understanding that everyone’s perception of something, may it be an inanimate object or experience is unique. The end of class he assigned us to write an essay about a personal experience, to be due the following week. He also asked us to bring copies to distribute to all the class. The days prior to the due date, I recalled many experiences, but when I attempted to write them down on paper, I was not able toRead MorePersonal Narrative : Personal Essay873 Words   |  4 PagesLife can be hard when you think you have to be perfect. At home my parents always told me to do my best and they would be happy. Doing your best is one thing, but in my mind, I had to exceed even more. I had a goal to have 100% for all my overall grades. 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But there was one event in my life that would change the way that I looked at these things and realized that you can’t take these things for granted and that’s not what life is about. nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;When I was seventeenRead MorePersonal Narrative Essay521 Words   |  3 PagesPersonal Narrative I am listening for the sound of the front door. I know for certain that it is a Saturday night. I do not know whether I am six or 16, eight or 18. I may be alone. I may have a babysitter. It makes no difference. My vigil remains the same. I do not wait for the sound of the door opening. It is the sound of it closing that matters. If it clicks quietly shut, I

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