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Diagnosis
Topic Started: Jul 25 2009, 03:02 AM (3,947 Views)
Chains Of Fate
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President of Crystal Tokyo
I wrote this for English 101 my Freshman year of college. The time this was written about was a pretty depressing time back when I was a Junior in High School. I didn't know what was wrong with me, whether or not I would get better, whether or not I was going to live. (Worst case scenario) One doctor suggested that the pain was all in my head or something. It was horrifying. Until that point they just didn't know. Anywho, this is a highly personal piece but I just wanted to share it with everyone and give you another taste of my writing abilities. I hope you enjoy.



Diagnosis
By: Jonathan Dalton

The clock reads three a.m. Gasping for air in what feels like a dry and humid desert, I wipe sweat from my forehead. This is the third time this week I have woken up like this, and it is only Wednesday. I feel a moment of relief, thinking maybe this day might be different, but then it starts. The mind numbing pain. Through my window, streaks of dark blue colors stream in. “Enveloped in darkness… is that how I am going to spend the rest of my life? Is there a light at the end of my tunnel or does it only hide more darkness?” I wonder.

My dry throat beckons for something to drink, and I humbly give in. Stumbling off of my bed, I blindly hold out my arms in search of the door that will set me free from this black hell. After a moment of searching, my hand locates the cold, golden doorknob. With a simple twist and pull, light pours into my room from the bathroom up the hallway. I shield my eyes and boldly press on into the kitchen. My eyes finally adjust to the light and I remove my hand from my face. Glaring at the cabinets surrounding me, I think about all the food I haven’t been allowed to eat for three days. “I would rather gouge out my eye than look at another can of Chicken Broth, my only method of nourishment for these three God forsaken days,” I say to myself. My attention returns to my goal at hand and the refrigerator door opens. I linger for a moment drooling over the thought of an ice cold Pepsi which I would normally choose, but I reluctantly remember that the only thing I can have after twelve a.m. is water. Disappointed, I grab a bottle of Aquafina. Before satisfying my thirst, I press the can against my neck and forehead in an attempt to cool my raging fever.

Returning to my room, I plop back onto my bed and enjoy the frosty beverage now in my possession. The cold liquid covers my throat and sends me into a moment of pure ecstasy. The clock now reads three-fifteen a.m. With the last gulp of water down my throat, I lie back down and close my eyes. When I open them again, light has returned to the world. The clock reads nine a.m. Footsteps approach my door and it promptly opens. My mother stands in the doorway with a sympathetic look on her face. “How do you feel?” she asks. “Hungry. Not eating for three days tends to do that to you,” I try to say with a straight face. “Just a few more hours then you can eat whatever you want. What do you think you’ll feel like?” she asks with a smile. “We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.” I reply. “Well go ahead and get ready and we’ll go. Your appointment is at twelve, ya know.” she says as she leaves the doorway and heads up the hall. I begin my mundane routine of getting dressed and showering, and before I know it my mother and I are in the car and ready to go.

With that, our two hour journey begins. My head lies against the comfortable seat, propped slightly backwards so I can rest. A blank stare occupies my face as I tune out reality and substitute it for my thoughts. I wonder once again what today will bring, if anything. The thought of having some permanent disease is horrifying, but the thought of not knowing what is wrong is just as scary. The sun glaring on my face brings me back to the real world and I pull down the visor in front of me to protect my sensitive eyes. Green and blue signs pass my view, then trees, rows and rows of endless trees. Passing a store is so rare that I actually feel a glimmer of excitement when I do pass one. I am less than thrilled however to pass restaurants that taunt my stomach with the delectable food they know I cannot have.
After what seems an eternity, the sign I’ve been waiting for finally crosses my view. We pull into the parking garage and my mother curses at the people who steal the spots we intend to claim for ourselves. After a bit of swift maneuvering, we finally manage to grab a spot on the roof. A wonderful start to an instantly pleasant day.

Making our way down the parking garage, my mother repeatedly turns back at me with a smile on her lips and sadness in her eyes. The doors to the hospital slide open and we enter, pacing ourselves so that we reach our destination as quickly as possible. We enter the waiting room and I sign my name. Almost instantly, a woman emerges from the back and says my name. “I’ll see you as soon as they let me back there,” my mother says. I nod my head and follow the stranger to the unfamiliar back rooms. “How are you feeling?” the woman asks. “Okay; my stomach hurts a little.” I respond. “I’m sorry; well, we’re gonna get you outta here as soon as possible,” she says back. We come to a small room with a bed and a bathroom. “Your gown is right on the table, as soon as you get changed into that we’ll take you to the operating room, okay?” she says. I nod and do as she says.

Exiting the bathroom, I cross my arms in an attempt to keep warm. My bare feet feel like they’re walking on frozen glass and everything I touch sends a chill down my spine. I grow impatient waiting for the woman to return so I peek my head out of the doorway into the hall and search for the woman who will take me to my judgment place. Seeing nothing but an empty hallway, I return inside the room and sit on the small bed. Seconds later, I look up to see the woman standing before me. “Got your gown on right?” she asks. “I think so,” I reply. I stand up and do a spin, hoping that no part of me is wrongfully exposed. The woman smiles and pats the bed. “Okay then sweetie, we’re all set. If you’ll lie on down I’ll get you to the operation room.” I nod and comply. “Are you cold?” she asks. “A little,” I reply. “Hang tight sugar and I’ll get you a blanket.” she says. She walks over to some cabinets and pulls a few blankets out, then comfortably situates them on my legs. “That better?” she asks. “Yes, thank you,” I reply. She smiles then begins wheeling me to the operation room.

Lying on the cold hard table I look around at the many faces that pass me. Some smile, some only stare back. The lights on the ceiling momentarily blind me when we pass them so I turn my head to the side. Despite being so close to my moment of fate, I feel at ease. The rumbling of the mobile table I lie on reminds me of the sounds of a waterfall, and I’m sent into a realm of serenity. I close my eyes and picture a beautiful eden. Flowing waterfalls and luscious trees being blown by a soft wind inhabit my view. Doves as white as pearls flutter and chirp elegantly across a cerulean sky.

Suddenly, the rumbling of the waterfalls ceases and my eden fades away, being replaced by a familiar face. “Hello, Jonathan,” Dr. Sutphen says. “Hi,” I reply. “Dr. Farris is going to be giving you your anesthesia and we’re going to get started. Are you okay?” He says. I nod and Dr. Farris places the transparent mask on my face. I feel like a science experiment as I stare up at the faces partially covered with surgical masks around me. I squeeze my fist and close my eyes. “Just relax and count to ten,” she says. I oblige. One, two, three… Before I can even get to four, I unknowingly delve into the land of Nod. After what feels like an eternity of endless darkness, my eyes flutter open. Another familiar face stands before me, my mother beside her. “Jonathan? You awake?” Nurse Shelly asks. I widen my eyes as much as possible as I nod. “Your test came back positive. You have Crohn’s Disease.”
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Lilly_fer
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Moon Fairy
ugh Crohn's disease!

but i liked it, you used the right combination of metaphors and literal description so i could imagine it. (generally my concentration wanders when things are too metaphorically-heavy, especially if you use about fifteen to convey one instance. *coughstephaniemeyercough*

One thing, i was taught that when people speak it should be a new paragraph. whether or not that's correct, i dunno, :s

anyway, i thought it was a good piece with lots of imagination and it was engaging, it drew the reader in and i think you're brave for posting it to show other people (i've never shown anyone any of my written work or art.)

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Chains Of Fate
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President of Crystal Tokyo
Well thank you. ^^ The assignment was to write a descriptive essay, so the format is a little different than say a short story. (Thus why a new paragraph was not started after dialogue)
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soulisthirsty
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Moon Fairy
So that's an example of a descriptive essay! A friend of mine did an essay like that for our Writer's Craft course, only his topic was very lighthearted - first time having an oreo cookie, inspired by a joking remark I made to do it on oreo cookies. Still can't believe he took me seriously...

Anyway, I really enjoyed reading that a lot, and kudos for sharing something so personal to you! That's often a very difficult thing for someone to do, so I'm impressed that, particularly considering the topic of your piece, you chose to share that :) You definitely did a great job at describing various parts of the story, it definitely made it very clear as to what was going on and gave a clear visual in at least my mind to everything that happened. You also made excellent word choices to make it sound more mature, which was very appropriate considering the topic.

Thanks for sharing that, Chains :)
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Duskfall Star
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The Black Rose
An undoubtedly personal and emotionally charged piece, Chains. Your writing is a little rough in some places, but your management of the details definitely brings it in for a smooth landing.

I hope your Crohn's isn't giving you too much trouble these days.
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