Personal Narrative Essay On Death And Suicide
Katie Mallea
Mrs. Arnold
English 1301-5th
27 September 2012
Pulling the Plug To have the privilege of being born, we all must face the consequence of death. Some take the death of a loved one very poorly, while others take it fairly well. I just so happen to process death in an accepting manner. My mother isn’t so lucky. “Wake up!” I heard my mother whisper in my ear, “Today is the day.” My eyelids slowly opened only to see a white, lifeless ceiling staring me in the face. “Seriously, Get up!” my mother said in a hateful tone, “I don’t want to go through with this anymore than you do.” I slowly, but surely, dragged myself out of bed, forced myself to put on a decent looking outfit, and grabbed my bag while following my mother to our …show more content…
A thirty plus story building with new people, old people, dead people, sick people, healthy people and the people who the public rely on to fix and help those in need. Upon entrance to the actual building, a distinctive scent had the pleasure of meeting my nose. Before I had time to gag, my mother grabbed my arm and led me to the Intensive Care Unit publically known as ICU. The ICU was a horrifying place, in my opinion. People in an absolutely miserable state, capacitated the unit. Knowing that my grandfather was in such an awful state was terrifying, how could someone you love so unconditionally be so miserable? Blank faced, my mother guided me to the waiting …show more content…
I nervously took a seat next to my mother. Her anger and sadness did nothing but rub off on me, and caused my mother and I to conflict against each other. Once again sitting in silence, I heard a nurse call for the family of Robert Irving Burns. My mother and I stood up and following the nurse out of the waiting room and into my grandfather’s room. His room was a small, well kept room with one window, one door, one bed, and one patient. “Today is the day huh?” the nurse said calmly. My mother nodded. “Well when you give me the word, we will unplug all of the machines except for the heart rate monitor.” My grandfather was hooked up to a ventilator, and had a tube shoved down through his mouth so the air could inflate his lungs. He looked completely asleep with the tube down his throat, almost as if he knew nothing was even wrong. I’m not quite sure if he did know anything was wrong. His body was plump, but more swollen than usual. He had his eyes closed, and his hand was limp. I looked over at my mother and she told the nurse it was time. The nurse slowly grasped the tube and gently pulled it out of my grandfather’s throat. The moment it left his mouth, his eyes struck open, he body tensed up, and his hands clamped shut. My mother became hysterical and tried to do everything she could to help him, but he was already dying and there was
Mrs. Arnold
English 1301-5th
27 September 2012
Pulling the Plug To have the privilege of being born, we all must face the consequence of death. Some take the death of a loved one very poorly, while others take it fairly well. I just so happen to process death in an accepting manner. My mother isn’t so lucky. “Wake up!” I heard my mother whisper in my ear, “Today is the day.” My eyelids slowly opened only to see a white, lifeless ceiling staring me in the face. “Seriously, Get up!” my mother said in a hateful tone, “I don’t want to go through with this anymore than you do.” I slowly, but surely, dragged myself out of bed, forced myself to put on a decent looking outfit, and grabbed my bag while following my mother to our …show more content…
A thirty plus story building with new people, old people, dead people, sick people, healthy people and the people who the public rely on to fix and help those in need. Upon entrance to the actual building, a distinctive scent had the pleasure of meeting my nose. Before I had time to gag, my mother grabbed my arm and led me to the Intensive Care Unit publically known as ICU. The ICU was a horrifying place, in my opinion. People in an absolutely miserable state, capacitated the unit. Knowing that my grandfather was in such an awful state was terrifying, how could someone you love so unconditionally be so miserable? Blank faced, my mother guided me to the waiting …show more content…
I nervously took a seat next to my mother. Her anger and sadness did nothing but rub off on me, and caused my mother and I to conflict against each other. Once again sitting in silence, I heard a nurse call for the family of Robert Irving Burns. My mother and I stood up and following the nurse out of the waiting room and into my grandfather’s room. His room was a small, well kept room with one window, one door, one bed, and one patient. “Today is the day huh?” the nurse said calmly. My mother nodded. “Well when you give me the word, we will unplug all of the machines except for the heart rate monitor.” My grandfather was hooked up to a ventilator, and had a tube shoved down through his mouth so the air could inflate his lungs. He looked completely asleep with the tube down his throat, almost as if he knew nothing was even wrong. I’m not quite sure if he did know anything was wrong. His body was plump, but more swollen than usual. He had his eyes closed, and his hand was limp. I looked over at my mother and she told the nurse it was time. The nurse slowly grasped the tube and gently pulled it out of my grandfather’s throat. The moment it left his mouth, his eyes struck open, he body tensed up, and his hands clamped shut. My mother became hysterical and tried to do everything she could to help him, but he was already dying and there was