Personal Narrative: Tell Me A Story
Tell Me A Story
It was a perfectly normal Saturday night, until I sat on the couch. I expected to enjoy a funny movie with my dad, but instead I got a trip to the hospital. I sat on the couch, and then I felt a sting in my elbow. At first, it felt like I got a shot at the doctor, but it slowly got worse, and felt more like a knife slicing into my elbow. I winced and sprung up from the couch. I squinted and my eyes scanned the spot where I just sat down. Aha, I thought. There was a small piece of plastic, and it looked like it broke off from a container. “Dad! Look. Is my elbow bleeding?” I asked him with concern. Before he could even answer, I knew it was bad. His face looked like he saw a monster. “What’s wrong? What is it?” I asked frantically. …show more content…
We stepped out into the night and drove to the hospital. Once we got there, the nurse asked me a bunch of questions. From 1-10, 10 being the worst, how much does it hurt? How did this happen? Oh yeah, I thought. I never really thought out how this all happened. So I guess it went like this: I sat on the couch, about to watch a movie. When I sat down, I sat on a broken piece of plastic. Then, my elbow started bleeding really bad, but the pain was worse Finally, I ended up at the hospital. After all of the questions, the nurse took me into a small room with my brothers and my dad. The room had a chair, a sink, and worst of all, a tray full of needles. I hated needles. I’ve already experienced what felt like a knife in my elbow, I can’t handle a needle now, I thought. When the doctor came in, she told me I needed 5 stitches. Great, now I need stitches! This day couldn’t get any worse, I thought. First, she stuck about 12 needles in my elbow to numb it. With every single shot, I squeezed my eyes shut, gripped my dad’s hand, and inhaled sharply. Then, she took a black, plastic thread, and began sewing my elbow together. I still remember my pink and white striped shirt, and my brand new blue shorts that were covered with tiny drips of blood. I looked away the whole time the doctor was stitching up my elbow, but by the look on my dad’s face, it definitely wasn’t pretty. All I felt was the tugging on my arm. After what felt like an eternity, she finally made a few knots at the end of the stitch. My brother took a picture and showed me. Eww, it looks like spiders, I
It was a perfectly normal Saturday night, until I sat on the couch. I expected to enjoy a funny movie with my dad, but instead I got a trip to the hospital. I sat on the couch, and then I felt a sting in my elbow. At first, it felt like I got a shot at the doctor, but it slowly got worse, and felt more like a knife slicing into my elbow. I winced and sprung up from the couch. I squinted and my eyes scanned the spot where I just sat down. Aha, I thought. There was a small piece of plastic, and it looked like it broke off from a container. “Dad! Look. Is my elbow bleeding?” I asked him with concern. Before he could even answer, I knew it was bad. His face looked like he saw a monster. “What’s wrong? What is it?” I asked frantically. …show more content…
We stepped out into the night and drove to the hospital. Once we got there, the nurse asked me a bunch of questions. From 1-10, 10 being the worst, how much does it hurt? How did this happen? Oh yeah, I thought. I never really thought out how this all happened. So I guess it went like this: I sat on the couch, about to watch a movie. When I sat down, I sat on a broken piece of plastic. Then, my elbow started bleeding really bad, but the pain was worse Finally, I ended up at the hospital. After all of the questions, the nurse took me into a small room with my brothers and my dad. The room had a chair, a sink, and worst of all, a tray full of needles. I hated needles. I’ve already experienced what felt like a knife in my elbow, I can’t handle a needle now, I thought. When the doctor came in, she told me I needed 5 stitches. Great, now I need stitches! This day couldn’t get any worse, I thought. First, she stuck about 12 needles in my elbow to numb it. With every single shot, I squeezed my eyes shut, gripped my dad’s hand, and inhaled sharply. Then, she took a black, plastic thread, and began sewing my elbow together. I still remember my pink and white striped shirt, and my brand new blue shorts that were covered with tiny drips of blood. I looked away the whole time the doctor was stitching up my elbow, but by the look on my dad’s face, it definitely wasn’t pretty. All I felt was the tugging on my arm. After what felt like an eternity, she finally made a few knots at the end of the stitch. My brother took a picture and showed me. Eww, it looks like spiders, I