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Marwa Alsalbookh Mia Eaker ENGL 1101-067 30 September 2013 Meaningful pain: A personal Literacy Human body interests me. I think, it interests everyone especially doctors. Well, that is why they become Doctors, right? I had always wondered what it feels like to have a living creature inside the human body and it turned out that it feels somewhat like being stabbed with bunch of knives. When I was in my Biology class in 11th grade, the teacher showed us how a surgeon takes all of the tapeworms out of the boy's stomach, but of course it was not a pleasant scene to watch for me. Once I saw that scene I instantly remembered what I had back in that day. The thought of it was a nightmare, or a tragic nightmare if I rather say so myself. The year 2004 had a lot of impact on who I am today. I had a cyst in the 5th grade which made me fatigued and ill for so long. Even though I felt like there was absolutely no way to survive after what I have been through, I still had in me a little hope both emotionally and spiritually. Doubtless, my mother told me two important words that I should never stop believing in, the words were hope and faith. I told my mother that I wanted a notebook. I was one of those girls who liked colorful and overly designed notebooks. She bought me a pink glittery notebook with a big butterfly on it in the middle. Little did I know that this notebook would change my view on writing all together; the amount of papers I have used to explain my pain that I've been through was unlimited. I felt thirsty to write, write, and write. One diary was not enough, not even two. I knew that there's something in that dairy that will listen to me, be on my side, and keep my secrets. It was a wonderful yet mysterious feeling. This is how I started writing about my pain. Through this my

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everyday thoughts encompassed me feeling the urge to write. It made me feel different in a good way and reflected well with my personality, too. My typical morning when I was 11 years-old was pretty much tedious. Not too much to do other than getting dressed, eating breakfast, taking classes at school and so on. I had to admit it, I was walking in heavy steps, because I was tossing and turning in bed out of pain the previous night. When the week went by as fast as a cheetah, I no longer had power to do anything with all that pain disturbing me. When my parents had known about my condition, they immediately went to the nearest hospital in town to check on me. At first, they thought it was only because I was eating a lot. When I started to whine and cry frequently, that made them realize that there was something really bad happening to me. They took me to several hospitals to investigate my irritating sickness. Finally, the doctor told my parents that he wanted to talk to them in private. At that moment I could clearly see my mother's face changing into colors. It made me feel like I was at the end of my 11 years of life. While my parents were talking to the Doctor about my illness, at the other half of the room, I was waiting patiently and trying very hard not to cause any grunting. I mentioned the pain that almost ate out my very soul on my first diary entry specifically on page three, under the title "It was just the beginning". From my perspective, I knew that there was a power that could cure me, by that I dont mean technologically; I meant the power that no one can ever have; the ultimate power of God. My mother always told me that God put us in pain to test if we have "patience. Of course, you won't get that much belief out of an 11 year-old girl. However, I got tempted by my mother to believe and to have faith. She told me if I got better soon we would go to Spain and France. To be honest , that motivated me to do whatever the doctor wanted me to do to get ready for the operation, so I just went through all procedures easily without any hesitation. I even wrote in my

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diary about what we will do in Spain and how we will go there. On a sunny day, in my room at the hospital, lying on the bed with needles inside of my hand, I wasn't really aware of what I had inside my tummy. The only thing I knew is my sickness is called a cyst. This can be explained as a wrapped sac of fluid containing air and other materials such as semi-solids, all packed together. I grabbed my dairy book which was on the chair. I wrote how I felt when I was going from one hospital to another. How I felt when I had more than one needle sticking inside of me and how hard it was to let me be alone with my pain without having to give me any kind of medicine till the addressing of my condition first. When the doctor visited my room, he smiled at me and told me that it was time. At first, I didn't know what he was talking about, but the more I looked at his face I forced myself not to think about what would happen next. Consequently, I accepted the fact that I was going to have an operation, because all that I wanted is to be relieved from all of that insidious pain. However, I had the surgery, but the next six hours after the surgery, I was in a coma, but I woke up once I heard a lot of noise. The first thing I saw when I opened my eyes was flowers, chocolate boxes, and a Barbie doll! That made me happy to be honest and cheered me up for a while. Moreover, Dr.Basil told me that the operation had succeeded; I smiled widely. A few hours later, the doctor and his nurse came to my room like an army that had just won a war. I can see the victory shine from their faces. He told me that they will give me a medicine which my body will probably refuse, because it is a foreign substance to it. I was so frightened, but what else could happen; it was inevitable in anyway. They covered my mouth with the oxygen mask and for moments I can never describe how I felt in few words. The only thing I remember is that I couldn't breathe and I felt like the Angel of Death was waiting for me to grab my soul. Once they took the mask off I started to gasp as if I was dead and someone gave me a life kiss.

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Lastly, my mother came to me and looked at my face with a depressed tone. She told me, I have something to tell you." At this point I didn't know what I should say other than "I knew that it is not good news, so tell me what it is." She whispered to my father and looked back at me and said Its about the medicine you took, there are some side effects and all of your hair will fall in less than a month". I unconsciously started to cry for hours and I blamed everyone when I was the one who caused this to my own self in the first place. I thought about how my life would be if I were bald. My bigger concern was facing teachers and students at school. I hated the fact that I would be bald and everyone will laugh at me.

At the end, my hair was the last test for me and I passed it. I have the right to be proud of myself for being so strong in this long journey of pain and suffering. Besides God's test, what really made me value my body was being in this situation. Who would've known that the new hair I have now is way prettier than the hair I've had lost?

I surly thank my mother who gave the comfort to go beside her for help. She is the one who opened my eyes on the most valuable lesson I have ever had in my life. I used hope and faith as a symbol for everything I do, that's why I wanted to name my children after these two words, so I will never forgot the meaning behind it. Since then, the saying "healthiness is a crown on a healthy person's head" never spilled out of my mind. I was also confident about writing whatever I want. I was so ambitious in my middle school expression classes. Its basically a class about writing an essay about a topic. I took 100% in this class. I was confident more than ever. I knew that the pain I had helped me explain and express myself in writing. A few years earlier, I was chosen to make a speech at my graduation ceremony that was written by me. I was so anxious when I was in the stage saying a speech with my own words, materials, and

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expressions. The impact of writing what I feel led me to read about other people's feelings. I started to read novels, mostly romantic and horror stories. Reading what people felt in their own stories, made me actually feel like I was there in my entire existence. I put myself in every character situation and saw everything from their perspective. At that moment, I realized that you never discover your inner skills until you go through some kind of an experience.