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If getting accused for the faults of others was one of the unbearable injustices in the human history, then getting injured due to the recklessness of others ought to be the least favored types of mishap. I believe it is not the pain caused by the injury that would makes us feel frustrated; in fact, one may even feel the experience worthwhile if the pain was inflicted during an event of which that person purposefully chosen to be in. This type of frightening experience commonly occurs in our daily lives when we disregard our basic moral responsibilities and common sense.
I was heading toward my afterschool academy when the rain started pouring. I took off my sport jacket and spread it to over my head as I began to feel droplets dripping down from my eyelids. Suddenly, my body was launched up into the air, followed by a rapid side flip before the whole movement came to a stop. Then I was on my back, confused, and eager to figure out what exactly had just happened. I tried to put myself together. The jacket was still clenched in my palms and I could hear nothing but the rain patter upon my ears and the ground on which I was lying. I regained focus and lifted my chest.
"Are you ok?" Some voices in the rain somewhere across the street.
I asked myself that same question. Finally stood up and slowly stepped away from the middle of the road, I ensured myself of the ability to move. It was as if the driver of the dark- blue vehicle felt my relief that he immediately allowed himself to drive away. I was angry that he did not believe it was not common courtesy to step out his car and give a little concern to someone whom his car just hit. At that moment, it was not any good to chase foolishly after the car so I merely continued walking. I felt quite lucky that I was able to get up and made it to my destination on time.
"In my country, we were often told that if one ever survived an accident, something good will soon happen to that individual." A chubby kid sitting in front of me responded in Chinese after overhearing my conversing with my study partner about the incident. I had also heard of that saying.
"Thanks," I replied and proceeded to show them the red spot on the side of the knee of my right leg, "It doesn't hurt very much though." I found out the next day that the spot had transformed into a plum. It did look five times grosser than a regular internal bleeding, but I considered it a good sign. I told myself to be more alert if ever to cross another crosswalk that has no traffic lights. I did not talk to my parents about this immediately because it did not seem like a big deal to me. All they would have done was telling me to skip school the next day so that mom could take me to the hospital. I chose to rely rather on the magical healing ability of our human body.
Comparing to the ridiculous experiences that would occur to me in later years, this occasion only make me seem silly. My family moved to uptown Manhattan at the end of that year. Even though it was only one borough away, I missed my middle school classmates from Queens a great deal. It was funny because they thought it another one of my joke when I informed them of the news.
Living in Washington Heights was a new challenge. I learned that the neighborhood is mostly Hispanic and Jewish. It was surprising to know the entire school only had two Asian students. There, for the first time, I met two new special friends of different ethnicities. Daris, whose parents were from Dominican Republic, was the smartest and friendliest Hispanic person I think I would ever meet. And Jacob, whose parents were from Portugal, was the weirdest and the most adventurous person I had ever worked with. I remembered one of the the bullies would often picked on Jacob and me, because we looked different and physically small. It was as if both of bodies' defense mechanism had been alerted that each of us had grown more than seven inches by the time we reached eighth grade. I was not very fond of anyone else from that school, because everyone else was not only displaying actively their cultural ignorance of another ethnicity but they were especially reckless and shortsighted. My older sister was lucky enough to attend I.S 187, a much better public school where she never once had to worry about getting hit in a spontaneous cafeteria chaos during lunch. It was shocking considering the difference between I.S 218 and I.S 187 when these two schools located only 10 blocks away from each other.
I began to wonder if the staffs of the hospital- the Milstein Hospital- in Washington Heights were going to differ from Bellevue. I spent time in its clinical office department for a while, after my sophomore year of High School, as a volunteer. I figured it was the best way to get to learn about the hospital. The volunteering application took five months to process and in the end I was only assigned to a role where I spent five hours each day sorting out old patients' folders. I communicated mostly with the professional staffs that were also spending their time dealing with patients' documents. I felt I was in an attorney's office rather than a hospital. The only department that obviously did not make sense to me was the Emergency Room. Anywhere was better than the Emergency Room. First of all, the name itself could not be any more ironic. It should rename itself the Bring A Book To Read For Three Hours Unless You Are Bleeding To Death Department. I heard of the story about Emergency Room before; it is always crowded, and tedious. I had never been to ER before, and I did think I would ever go there. But I was wrong.
I received a call one school night from the fast-food Chinese restaurant employee, whom my family knew very well, told me that my mom had just been attacked while she was making order.
"Some kid flung a bottle toward the counter and it hit the right side of her face," She described it to me in Chinese. "Your sister is going to the Emergency Room with your mother right now."
"Was she bleeding?" I asked before I used my cell phone to dial 911. This type of incident happened occasionally down at the restaurant and my sister was usually the one who helped her call the police.
"No, but she's probably in a lot of pain."
I told her to call me when the police arrived as I ran toward the Emergency Room. As I expected, the Emergency Room is full of people sitting in the waiting room and it took me a while to locate them. My mom showed me where she was feeling pain and it was obvious to me because the area under her right cheek is swelling but she was more worried about the possible damage to her ear. Apparently, however, it was not so obvious to the nurse because he could not stop asking my mom if they could take a seat and fill out the applications. There were about 30 people in the waiting room, 5 people lying on their gurneys, and for the entire hour that had passed, the only sign of change was in the rhythm of laughter coming from the three nurses chatting annoyingly within the tall, circular counter. I looked around and saw nobody seemed to be emotionally disturbed by this grueling status quo as another hour went by. I wanted to urge to my mom and little sister to leave but I could not. How could I look them in the eyes and tell them everything would be fine when I was not. I could not withstand the fact that no one was even making the effort in speeding up the process, if it even existed. The next I knew, I was carrying out a furious but quiet feud with one of the nurses.
"Perhaps I am jumping to conclusions." I responded when my sister joked I was being unreasonable, "It doesn't matter to me how experienced a doctor is, what's important is showing seriousness and concern to his patients."
Not everyone is selfless, not everyone is going to avoid drinking, not everyone is going to bend the rules using common sense like, do what we need to do to make ourself
Every career has its moral responsibilities intertwining the technical aspects. It ilive in a society where the results of our progress impact on each other's lives. As I believe a doctor does not have in his hands only the responsibility for the physical wellness of patients but the spirits of hope as well.
Sometime we just have to use our common sense to determine what.
y my opinion unless I was.
Unable to prevent I mourn the fact that I was cannot do anything to help my mom. I cry at the unfairness in this world.
I have always been fascinated by the ability of human body in healing itself, but as I got older I see
This gave me hope to consider the hospital. But it turned out the l services are all the same. Describe the emergency room. The place was packed, it just so typical of hospitals in New York City. They all looked tired and sleepy.I looked around the waiting room but could not find her.
been alerted of the danger that both Jacob and I grew very tall. I Even though we never had the chance to graduate the Middle School together, their perspectives influenced me a great deal.
I have always been amazed by the healing ability of our human body. But as I grew older, I become more aware of the dedicate side of our body I believe human body is truly an amusing system, especially the human brain. Our ability to heal itself is what I always try to depend on. Ever since my vision started to go bad and I have to wear eyeglasses, I began to notice that the fragile side of our human body, this system is not perfect. There are viruses that our body cannot conquer such as HIV virus, and there are sickeness that takes both our science and one's desire to live in order to fight the sickness and win. I trust the science, but I don't trust the every practitioner of the science. I think this is amazing. I know many people who lose their limb from accidents and I was afraid of going to the hospital. I am not afraid of getting shots or surgeries. I am afraid of malpractice. I never like the idea of letting other people determine my own life and death. You never know when they are lying to you. You waited hours outside of the hospital and when I am finally being called on, I was so happy. He told me to do all sorts of pushing and pulling after which he told to sit and told me I was ok. I waited for him to say something else but he just stare me in the eyes. I wanted to let him know how much discomfort I am in. "Did you check my x-ray?" "Yes, I did." It is ok when getting injured for doing something I love and it is stupid for getting injured for something foolish. I mean, if I say I am afraid of going to doctors, then I should never feel the urge to do anything exciting? Then this would make me a wimp, other people would therefore not agree with me because they would rather stand with the doctor's side and argue that they will do dangerous thing because they trust their doctors. Therefore, I should say that it is stupid to get injure when if that injury is caused in a situation while you are being a good person. Base on this feeling, I can conclude that even if there are malpractice doctors, we will still live our exciting lives and do dangerous things as long as there are meaningful and was a decision made by ourselves. This reminds me of the friends episode in which changler wrote in rose's alumni page announcing rose had just die, at least doing something he loved.
Doctors who don't like to deal with patients should quit their job before they get sued because they are making other people's lives miserable. Lack of interest in what they are practicing is one of the things I hated
the most. Some people can still be focus and responsible even when they do both like what they are doing and they sure deserve some respect. When teachers are being irresponsible, students can still read textbook and learn from many reliable sources, while when doctors are being irresponsible, we have major problems. And one problem will lead to the next. I know some people who are rude but still finish what they do, but a lot of doctors are rude because they think patients are annoying so that they lack the motif and patience to verify the condition and problem which is what they were trained to do.
Imagine you are a skillful driver and never once multitask while driving but run into car accident because the other driver was drunk. I know I would get super pissed, because my fate was not in my own hands when I was behaving like a true decent human being. In this society, the good people never get the reward they deserve. This has become a truth and a 21th century pattern and I have nothing to say but a sigh. A lot of examples I provide are analogous to this situation.
Here I mention the magical healing. When we lose a leg, our body has the ability to automatically compensate the loss by making the remaining leg stronger. I always wonder if the same effect applies to loss of vision. Does our hearing and feeling senses sharpen themselves as a result of our inability to see clearly?
Aka: senses did not really improve; I remember the day I walked into an air conditioner. I almost fainted. I thought somebody threw something down the build and hit my head. I really blamed myself for not being careful so I have only myself to blame. My skull was fractured a bit and a scar is now carved upon the edge of my forehead. It still head whenever I press against it, sometime it hurt when I am hearing a cap.
My mom was not doing anything bad but he got hit in the face by some assholes. And then when she arrived at the ER, the ER nurses are revealed to be assholes as well. My parents waited in the waiting room for over 2 hours and all they said was that there is no doctor. I mean, people call ambulance for a reason, people move their car away so that the ambulance would move away, this effort was in vain. When the ambulance arrived ER, the patience climb out of the car and what awaited them is a long line, at the other end of the long line appear to be 3 nurses talking to each other and making jokes. This infuriated me very much. This enable me to look at
Even when I am not trying to do something dangerous, bad things happen to me. It is like I am driving but I got into an accident because the other driver was drunk. Who am I to blame.