There are those incidents that happen in life and are so memorable that they keep on lingering in one’s mind. At the same time, such events usually leave a permanent mark on the lives of individuals and offer lessons that cannot be erased by any other experience in life, no matter what you do.
My memory event took place several years ago when, due to my curiosity, I decided to accompany my grandfather to the hospital. Due to his old age, my grandfather had started experiencing major problems with his left eye. He had visited the hospital on many occasions to seek treatment, but his condition was not getting any better. Finally, his doctor told him the only remedy left was to go for eye surgery as a way of trying to correct the abnormality with the eyes. I read a lot about cataracts, hoping to something or someone who could help, but my research failed. So, surgery was the only way out. Why was I so obsessed with searches for treatments? First off, I loved my grandpa. Second, I hated hospitals, and I did not want him to be there because he hated them too. Since it was a weekend and I had neither classes nor any other obligations on that day, I thought it would be a good idea to accompany my grandfather to the hospital rather than stay home and be bored. The tight relationship that had developed between my grandfather and me also made it very easy for me to accompany him, despite the fear I had of surgeries and hospitals in general.
Once, I have read an interesting article when I was writing a nursing essay. I was always afraid of wards with patients who were waiting for their verdict or dying because treatment had not helped. I tried to find out what nurses usually did to calm down patients like me. I tried to remember that article to distract a bit from my fear and disturbing thoughts. I looked around and understood why my fear was not as strong as usual. The wards and waiting rooms were cozy. The personnel was polite and friendly. The doctor and nurses spoke slowly and calmly, without high-pitch tones. They did the same things I had read about in that scientific article. I was shocked that I remembered such unimportant things when keeping my grandfather’s arm. He was anxious and terrified as well. So, I pretended to be concentrated and high-mood not to worry him. My support was the only thing I could do for one of the dearest people in my life.
It was not long before both my grandfather and I felt relaxed and ready for the surgery, as we forgot the high degree of nervousness. We had felt just a few moments earlier. I have always had this fear of doctors and injections, so even as I began to relax, thoughts of the impending surgery were drilling into my mind. I knew the surgery would be more serious than the injections that I feared so much as well. In an hour or so, I was just sitting on the couch and waiting while the nurses were preparing my grandfather for the surgery. All of a sudden, a cup of coffee appeared before my eyes. It was an old lady with shiny gray hair and a kind smile that I saw in one of the hospital rooms. At first sight, I was impressed by the fact that she looked very much like my grandmother. The lady told me that her husband was on an operating table and that nurses told her that he probably wouldn’t be able to use his hand anymore. So, not knowing what to do, she saw me and decided to cheer me up with a hot cappuccino. Of course, her coffee didn’t change a thing in my current situation, but having someone so selflessly supporting you is always something that warms your heart. It turned out that she was a retired doctor. There’s something that she said, and that still lingers in my head even today, “You can’t save every patient, but the way you respond to this person can ease the illness.”
I watched many movies where people lost track of time while waiting for the end of surgery. So, I was drawing a picture of myself sitting in an empty room and watching the clock that seemed to have frozen forever. Interestingly, the whole surgery lasted only an hour, and my grandfather was wheeled out of the operating room with a bandage on the operated eye. However, he was conscious and in very high spirits. I cannot forget the look on my grandfather’s face and the feeling of relief he expressed, knowing that the problem with his eye was finally over.
At that very moment, my fear of doctors vanished, and I began appreciating the important role that doctors play in everyday life. That is the moment I decided that I wanted to be a doctor, and currently, I am pursuing a course in medicine.
Writing a narrative essay requires a certain degree of capability to tell stories. In a typical college narrative essay, you should recount your personal experience and share both – what actually happened and the lesson that you have learned.
The definition of the narrative essay usually varies in different colleges and universities. Typically, the paper is used to tell a story to share your personal experience in an inspirational way. Readers enjoy these essays more than the rest of the writing projects because everyone likes stories.
Finally, make sure that your story has a purpose. Sometimes, a simple retelling of particular events is not enough even for a high school project, let alone the piece of a college level.