I would thank anyone that helps to improve and cut down this essay.I am going to be uploading my essays here, so if you can take a look at them too in the next days it would be awesome.
Tell us about the most significant challenge you've faced or something important that didn't go according to plan. How did you manage the situation?(*) (200-250 words)
"There are four arteries that irrigate to the heart. My father has three of them clogged."
This was all I could think as my mom and I entered the hospital the night before my dad's surgery. It was also the first time I crossed the doors to the ICU, the place where my father had stayed several times for the last four months. It all had begun when, while driving, his sight got clouded, his breath shortened and his chest started screaming.
"Listen," my mother took my by the shoulders so her eyes meet with mine. "The night visits are from 9:00 to 9:30 p.m. Only three people are allowed. Separately, that is. And only legals. You know what we're doing, right?" I nodded. "You're going first". She helped me get into a gown and a muffler, explained me how to get to my father's bed, and only then, let me go.
It's funny how I was fifteen years old but took an adults-only tour, while all those other times he was hospitalized and I stayed at grandma's no one gave me the facts straight.
The lights on that zone of the hospital were brighter, but at the same time there were more shadows. The next day, early on the morning, my father was going to close his eyes and I needed to find him. Doctors passed me, busy, nurses made their errands and sick patients waited on every corner. I thought I wasn't going to make it, that I was a lost child. But then, only a few steps away, I saw him in the same exact moment he saw me, and he smiled at me.
Tell us about the most significant challenge you've faced or something important that didn't go according to plan. How did you manage the situation?(*) (200-250 words)
"There are four arteries that irrigate to the heart. My father has three of them clogged."
This was all I could think as my mom and I entered the hospital the night before my dad's surgery. It was also the first time I crossed the doors to the ICU, the place where my father had stayed several times for the last four months. It all had begun when, while driving, his sight got clouded, his breath shortened and his chest started screaming.
"Listen," my mother took my by the shoulders so her eyes meet with mine. "The night visits are from 9:00 to 9:30 p.m. Only three people are allowed. Separately, that is. And only legals. You know what we're doing, right?" I nodded. "You're going first". She helped me get into a gown and a muffler, explained me how to get to my father's bed, and only then, let me go.
It's funny how I was fifteen years old but took an adults-only tour, while all those other times he was hospitalized and I stayed at grandma's no one gave me the facts straight.
The lights on that zone of the hospital were brighter, but at the same time there were more shadows. The next day, early on the morning, my father was going to close his eyes and I needed to find him. Doctors passed me, busy, nurses made their errands and sick patients waited on every corner. I thought I wasn't going to make it, that I was a lost child. But then, only a few steps away, I saw him in the same exact moment he saw me, and he smiled at me.