Hope This I Believe Narrative Essay

Driving through a dark tunnel with no source of light can be petrifying, but it Is that light at the end that keeps you driving onward. The light signifies hope and all the happiness and bliss that accompanies it. Somewhere on our journey through life we get swarmed with things that are detrimental to our way of living, things that are unbearable; nevertheless, the hope that we feel keeps our heads above water. I believe In looking on the bright side of things. Be an optimist, Over the past two weeks it is all I have had to do; every waking minute it is what I continuously have to do.

I cannot let myself think of the opposite; nothing good can come out of it. There I was sitting in a place I had never imagined myself. A whirlwind of people soared by me in a haste. It appeared that someone had clicked the fast forward button on the remote that held the control to my life. I needed it to pause Just for a second. I needed to take a breath; however even if I inhaled, all I got was the obscure doors of chemicals and sanitation. Seated across the room, were a family huddled together In a circle.

A man in a white coat stood In front of them telling them the news they had eagerly been waiting all day. As he continued to talk, the expressions in their faces changed. They lost their equanimity and grabbed onto each other securely for support. It was the thing we all dreaded to hear: bad news. That news was bound to shape our future; all there was to come was a series of events that Inevitably lead to that dreary outcome. Prior to the surgery, doctors told us to expect for him to be out of surgery after six to eight hours if there were no severe complications.

After going in at eight kickoff in the morning, a stopwatch immediately began in my head. Nine kickoff. He’d been in the OR for one hour. Noon, he’d been in the OR for four hours. By the time the fall bell rang It had been eight hours. My parents had promised to call me If there had been any news, good or bad. I pushed all the fear away to continue on and go to rehearsal, pretending that every fiber of my being was not full of paralyzing fear. Four dock came and went, nine hours.

I called my Mom who told me she had not heard anything from the doctors and they were still in the waiting room, waiting for news, waiting for our future to be shared with us. It was the moment when I hung up the phone that I instinctively knew something was wrong. I instantaneously lost the hope that everything was going to be satisfactory, the hope that I had had a firm grip on throughout the entire day. Beep. Beep. Beep. Machines bigger than me connected themselves to my five month old brother in more ways than should have been conceivable.

He lie on his bed completely motionless, heavily sedated on morphine and other numerous drugs. Wanted to sit down and stay a while, Just to be there with him so he would not feel all alone. He was so little. His face was blank, but still looked peaceful in the dim hospital light. I couldn’t bear the stay there more than I was obliged to; it was too official to imagine someone, so innocent, who had not even lived their life to be on the brink of losing It. There was a machine that pumped and oxygenated his blood for him, as he was medically unable to do It himself.

HIS heart literally could not beat for him. One hundred and sixty days old, that is how old he was that day. How was I 1 OFF to prepare for the worst? How was I supposed to go to class or even sit at a desk to do work and not think that my entire life may change within the course of a few days? If I was not at the hospital, I would sleep or read or do something that would keep my mind off of everything going on. If I had begun to lose that grip on the hope that everything would be okay, I would get clouded with so much fear I could not handle it.

I resorted to the three most important things there were: breath, keep calm and hope for the best. Hope was the thing that led me getting out of bed every single morning when all I wanted to do is go back to sleep and dream of a world where none of this had happened. Hope not only held my family up, but every person who stepped foot into that building. The amount of death of innocent children was overpowering, but it was also the wonders that were performed there that gave people the courage to step wrought that door in the first place.

After two weeks, another surgery, a huge weight was lifted off of everyone’s shoulders when we finally got the good news we had been waiting to hear all along. My brother was finally on his road of recovery. It was going to be slowly paced, but he was going to be healthy. I no longer need the hope I had required to survive every single one of those days; he was going to be okay. Just a few days ago he had opened his beautiful brown eyes to take a look at this world once again. Though this world can be harsh, ugly, and downright mean; it is also full of so much beauty, miracles, love, and life.