The Emergency Room-Personal Narrative

Though the sun was peeking through my window, the chill of the new year’s undefined expectations captivated my room. My older brother, Eric, scrambled in. “A bunch of us are going sledding. Do you want to come?” I hesitated for a moment as the thought of leaving the warmth of my blankets was less than tempting, but nevertheless agreed. We trudged through the newly fallen snow. First, traversing behind my neighbor’s house, then, cutting through Beardsley’s Apple Orchard, we made our way up the seemingly endless hill to finally arrive at our favorite sledding destination. Down the hill and back up we went, over and over and over again until the sun began its retreat back into the trees. “Okay, last run,” were Eric’s final words to me before...snap! …show more content…
This was the first time I have ever been truly afraid, and the throbbing pain was the only thing I could focus on as my mother drove down Main Street in a panic. The doors of St. Vincent’s emergency room opened up immediately as if anticipating my visit. One, two, three, put on your brave face I told myself as we approached the woman at the front desk. She only managed to ask my name before my brave face quivered and turned into tears. She told me to hang tight and that a nurse would come to assess my injury in a few moments. Ten minutes had passed when a nurse led me through multiple corridors to a room. She asked me to take off my gloves, as I was still entirely in my sledding gear, and a wave of hysteria came over me. The glove on my right hand was the only thing standing between me and the throbbing laceration I knew was underneath. Counting backwards from ten, the nurse slowly cut off my knit glove and there was my bone protruding through my skin. Surprisingly, my nerves diminished as I studied my injury. Suddenly curious, but before I could take it all in (the physical damage to my body; the notion that my hand may never look or function the same), the physician’s assistant brought me to a