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The day my world changed

The day my world changed

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Published by Eryn McQueen

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Categories:Topics, Art & Design
Published by: Eryn McQueen on May 12, 2011
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McQueen 1Eryn McQueenMr. Neuburger English Comp. 101-132March 7, 2011Descriptive EssayThe Day My Priorities ChangedThe sound of the alarm from my cell phone was blaring under my left ear, but it had to bea mistake because it couldn¶t really be morning yet. Eyes still shut, my hand searching under the papers that had been my pillow had no luck in locating the persistent sound that made itimpossible to sleep. I was actually going to have to open at least one eye in an effort to find the phone so I could hit the blurry snooze button. Where was I anyway? It was all I could do to openone and then the other eye, but everything was still cloudy. My hand finally felt the cool metal of the phone and fumbling for a moment, I finally figured out how to silence the annoying ringing.It had become common, my working till I finally fell asleep at my office. I began settingan alarm to be sure I was awake before my employees came in for the morning. Theembarrassment of my assistant having to wake me with my makeup smeared and my crazymorning hair shooting in all sorts of strange ways was more than she really needed to witnessfirst thing in the morning.My days were indulgently spent working, never taking a moment¶s break for myself or my family, and it was somehow euphoric for me to lose myself in work so the reality of myworld wouldn¶t have a chance to enter my exhausted mind. The day before had been such anexciting experience in my life; the gratifying feeling of accomplishment filled me still. I had just signed a contract on a monstrous mansion of a home. It sat on a lovely, luscious lake front
 
McQueen 2lot, referred to by the builder and the neighbors as the castle. It boasted a sales price of 1.1million dollars. I found a fantastic accent piece for the driveway that was every bit as elegant asthe home it¶s self. I had fallen in love with the amethyst colored hardtop Lexus convertible themoment I saw it and bought it right there on the spot. Life was good and I felt like I had to work every moment to keep it that way.This particular morning, however, I had to take time out for my youngest son, Memphis,who had a check-up with his pediatric cardiologist. I didn¶t mind going since his doctor had said by age two the holes in his heart would almost certainly be closed. I was geared up for the blissful news and anxious for the peace it would bring to close this worrisome chapter in our life.My mother met me in the parking lot of the doctor¶s office with Memphis in the backseatof her car waving and yelling as soon as he saw me, ³Mommy, Mommy´. He was the sweetestconstantly content and cheerful child I had ever known, always happy. I often wonder where his joy comes from and have tried to incorporate it into my life as well. Helping him out of his car seat he raised his arms for me to pick him up; both dimpled hands wrapped firmly around hisveggie tales characters, Larry in one hand and Larry Boy in the other. As I pulled him to me, hegave me the biggest baby boy hug his little arms could possibly give but no kisses, because theywere ³germy and yuck.´The waiting room was full of toys, but he was not interested since he was busy watchingthe pretty fish in their aquarium, his favorite being a black and yellow fish that seemed to hide ina small hole inside of a rock, occasionally swimming out for a second and then darting back tohis hiding place.Waiting for what seemed forever for them to call his name in the cold waiting room withits uncomfortable chairs; I was more than ready to get this over with so I could go back to work.
 
McQueen 3I passed the time talking to my mother who felt she needed to be there. I, on the other hand, feltas if it was not necessary but didn¶t really care either way. At least this way she could take him back home after we were done, and I could get back to my office and check on my employees.A joyful nurse in her child print scrubs finally called us back into the exam room with its brightly colored tiles and painted walls. I was relieved that Memphis was a little more acceptingthis time of the troubling, tedious tests that had to be performed but only after he had been giventwo red suckers and a handful of Bob the Builder stickers. As the tests were being done, myoffice called me at least ten times, and so I stepped into the hall to take the next call while mymother and the technician were with my relatively calm son. He looked so small and helplesswith all of those wires hooked up to his chest; I thanked God I would never have to see him likethis again. The tests took a long time, but the wait for the doctor to come in and talk about theresults was even longer, and at this point my patience was thin at best.When he came into the room I was more than a little irritated at his lack of considerationfor my time. He was dressed sloppy, his clothes were wrinkled and his shirt only partially tuckedinto his pants that were missing a belt. His voice and behavior were detached from any type of emotion, and I wondered why he was in the position he was in. The doctor sat at a desk coveredwith pictures of his children that had obviously been taken years before, and I wondered why hehad no recent photos. Perhaps it was his lack of emotion that made me wonder if he was notclose to his children now that they were in their teens, and I could never imagine him ever  possibly possessing parental love needed to nurture them.As he sat in front of us, he began talking about some rare finding that he had only readabout in medical digests but had never actually seen, but I couldn¶t understand why. I was sittinghere all of this time ready to get the news that all was fine and we could stop any type of worry

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