Waiting in the Post-Op
The garage door opened and my heart started to pound. While the car pulled in I tried to hold in the excitement because Clarissa was in pain, a lot of pain, and I had to be respectful That lasted until the door opened. Once the knob turned I practically jumped out of my chair to greet her. I knew she would be excited as well: she was coming home with a steel rod in her chest and probably couldn’t wait to brag. Quickly controlling myself, I slowed down and softly asked “Hi, how are you feeling?”
“Good,” She replied offering me a timid smile. I knew what that meant, she always used proper grammar when she had high pain levels. But I could also see in her smile that she was excited and proud and in her eyes that she had grown up a lot this last week. She shuffled to her room like a ninety year old in a retirement home and our little brothers followed close behind firing a million questions a second: “What was it like? Was the food good? Did you see the sign we made you?” Clarissa winced as Mom helped her into bed and she answered “It was cool there, but I couldn’t keep the food down, and I love the sign,” all in that shly proud voice.
“Boys, your sister just got home and is very tired, please give her a minute and go get ready for bed quietly,” my mom whispered, implying we should as well. They left and Mom asked some questions of her own, about her pain level, if Clari thought she would get sick again, if she was comfortable with that particular pillow arrangement. I took this opportunity to really look at her, and thought I’ve never seen her so weak.
Two summers ago my sister went through pectus excavatum surgery. This means that she had a titanium rod put into her sternum. Her sternum had been severely concave and she went through the surgery to make it less concave. The surgery improves breathing capacity, stops heart murmurs, and helps decrease Asthma symptoms. Her surgery was one of the most grueling surgeries a child can have. It was extremely painful because when the rod was inserted, the doctors put it in upside down and then flipped it, popping the sternum out instantly, moving bone in a matter of seconds and re-adjusting the entire upper torso. Without my whole family’s support, her recovery would have been much harder.
My Grandma also stayed to help, doing things my Mom usually would have like cooking and laundry. My Mom and I spent the next week or so helping my sister, I did things like taking out her retainer (with a tissue), helping her eat, changing the TV channel and basically doing anything that required a person to lift their arms. I was happy to help, Clarissa was my sister and she would have done the same for me. That time wasn’t all slave labor, we had fun too, watching movies (Ferris Bueller's Day Off was the best), talking about the hospital (it was apparently freezing), and ways she could use her bar as a weapon if she could slide it out (as a club or a shank). There were serious times as well, watching my sister in such pain and vulnerability was scary, even though we both knew that our whole family was there for her.
I know that if anything happened to me, my family would be there for me like I was there to help and support her. That feeling of protection, of togetherness, is what gives me the courage to move forward, I know that someone will be waiting for me in the Post-Op, just like my Mom was there for my sister.
Statement of Purpose:
My main focus of revision for this piece was improving word choice and sentence fluency.
“Good,” She replied offering me a timid smile. I knew what that meant, she always used proper grammar when she had high pain levels. But I could also see in her smile that she was excited and proud and in her eyes that she had grown up a lot this last week. She shuffled to her room like a ninety year old in a retirement home and our little brothers followed close behind firing a million questions a second: “What was it like? Was the food good? Did you see the sign we made you?” Clarissa winced as Mom helped her into bed and she answered “It was cool there, but I couldn’t keep the food down, and I love the sign,” all in that shly proud voice.
“Boys, your sister just got home and is very tired, please give her a minute and go get ready for bed quietly,” my mom whispered, implying we should as well. They left and Mom asked some questions of her own, about her pain level, if Clari thought she would get sick again, if she was comfortable with that particular pillow arrangement. I took this opportunity to really look at her, and thought I’ve never seen her so weak.
Two summers ago my sister went through pectus excavatum surgery. This means that she had a titanium rod put into her sternum. Her sternum had been severely concave and she went through the surgery to make it less concave. The surgery improves breathing capacity, stops heart murmurs, and helps decrease Asthma symptoms. Her surgery was one of the most grueling surgeries a child can have. It was extremely painful because when the rod was inserted, the doctors put it in upside down and then flipped it, popping the sternum out instantly, moving bone in a matter of seconds and re-adjusting the entire upper torso. Without my whole family’s support, her recovery would have been much harder.
My Grandma also stayed to help, doing things my Mom usually would have like cooking and laundry. My Mom and I spent the next week or so helping my sister, I did things like taking out her retainer (with a tissue), helping her eat, changing the TV channel and basically doing anything that required a person to lift their arms. I was happy to help, Clarissa was my sister and she would have done the same for me. That time wasn’t all slave labor, we had fun too, watching movies (Ferris Bueller's Day Off was the best), talking about the hospital (it was apparently freezing), and ways she could use her bar as a weapon if she could slide it out (as a club or a shank). There were serious times as well, watching my sister in such pain and vulnerability was scary, even though we both knew that our whole family was there for her.
I know that if anything happened to me, my family would be there for me like I was there to help and support her. That feeling of protection, of togetherness, is what gives me the courage to move forward, I know that someone will be waiting for me in the Post-Op, just like my Mom was there for my sister.
Statement of Purpose:
My main focus of revision for this piece was improving word choice and sentence fluency.