Type B Lymphoma Essays - Body Ache, Jan Brady, Fading Glow

Victoria Herrera English Composition September 7, 2010 Laurie Clemems Sister The sunlight slowly crept in through the long narrow window and slowly inched its way to touch Mayra?s yellowish skin. It was the beginning of August but the summers heat was nowhere to be found in the cold hospital room that made my body ache for warmth. She looked tired as the sunlight caressed her fragile skin and highlighted her once strong facial features. Although the nurses told us she could not feel any pain, her swollen figure made me wonder. Mayra?s fading glow confirmed my uneasy feeling that her death was eminent. Her illness invaded her body quickly, never giving her a chance at survival. The unfortunate events during her illness were not only distressing, but also challenged my strength and my faith. I was on vacation, outside willingly baking under the sizzling hot sunlight when I received a disturbing phone call from my mother. ?Mayra?s sick, so we?re taking her to the emergency room,? she informed me. This answered my lingering question as to why Mayra had not been answering my phone calls or text messages. Mom asked me to come home as soon I could. The thought of cutting my vacation short made me so angry I felt my blood boil under my skin and steam through every pore on my body. Mayra. Mayra. Mayra. Its always about Mayra I thought and truly felt like Jan Brady. I told my mom I would only go home if anything major was going on, and to keep me posted on the ER visit. After all, Mayra was pretty melodramatic and she was in the middle of a long painful battle against Lupus. I was certain she was just experiencing a flare she couldn?t get under control. I assumed the doctor would just change one of her many medications or prescribe her some other drug that would make her all bet ter. Mayra was at the hospital all afternoon and well into the wee hours of the night. Finally after hours of waiting, the verdict was finally in; suspicious lesions had been discovered on her liver and spleen. Her doctor moved quickly and arranged a transfer to a hospital in Denver that was better equipped to provide the medical attention she needed. It was the beginning of the end. I returned to Burlington, made childcare arrangements for our children and began my journey to Denver. While I was driving a million thoughts raced through my head and every tear that rolled down my cheek carried all my fears and insecurities. When I arrived at the hospital I made my way through the labyrinth of halls until I finally reached the Intensive Care Unit on the sixth floor. I didn?t know what to expect as I inched my way toward her room. I peeked my head and greeted her with a, ?BOO!? I immediately noticed the yellowish tint of her skin and on the white part of her eyes as she invited me in. Her hair was up in a messy ponytail with loose strands of hair here and there. It appeared to me that her nurse had hooked her up to every piece of equipment she could find. The deep bruises were beginning to form under her skin; evidence to her recent encounter with IV needles and phlebotomist. She sat up in bed trying to talk between her rapid breathing. I crept my way toward her an d even though my Mom had warned me not to cry, I felt the tears building behind my eyelids threatening to break free every time I blinked. I sat next to her on a cold folding chair and held her feverish hand. I told her I couldn?t handle our mother by myself and she couldn?t leave me. I reminded her of a promise she had made years earlier when she had been diagnosed with lupus. I made her promise me that she would never die and that she would always be okay. She closed her eyes and nodded enlightened my the memory of that promise. ?I?m working on that and I?m gonna try my best,? she whispered softly as she gasped for air. The tears I was trying to hold back burned