“I would take her to the ER,” the doctor said to my mother. My mom and I were sitting in Dr. Simon’s office. My stomach had been very painful for the past two days and my mom wanted to make sure I was okay. Dr. Simon and my mother discussed the details. At last, Dr. Simon dismissed us with a note to the ER workers. We drove to Emerson Hospital and went straight to the emergency room. As usual, there was a long wait. My stomach felt like it was a waterfall, churning all my food around. There were comfortable chairs and a T.V., which kept me preoccupied. “ Shelley Witt?” called a voice. A nurse in a white outfit showed us into a room. After I had put on the hospital robe, he took my blood. I tensed up while he took the blood out. “It’s all right sweetie,” said my mom. The nurse chuckled knowingly and wheeled me out the door on a bed. That was only the beginning. For the next three hours, I was wheeled through the hospital from room to room to room. The hospital was extremely cold and full of people in pain. I was frightened and I could tell my mom was too.

After the CAT scan, we were placed into a room to wait. The walls were a sickish color green. That was how I felt inside. I longed to be home in my bed and not in this cold, gray place. A nurse entered the room and broke the anxious silence. “Your daughter will be getting her appendix out.” My heart seemed to skip a beat and my stomach felt queasier than it had before. My ears suddenly felt like balls of cotton were stuffed in them. All I could think was “I’m going to get my appendix taken out!”




































I was shown to my room. A big picture window covered one of the walls. We were just in time to see a golden sunset take over the sky. A small nurse dressed in scrubs entered the room. She sat down, pulled out a laptop and started asking questions and typing. My mom answered most of them, since I was under the influence of painkiller. “No she’s never had surgery before…. She’s not taking any medications.” Their voices droned on and on. While they were talking, I was getting more and more worried. What if they took out my lungs by accident? What if they punctured my stomach? I was so worried that I was imagining the most frightening things that could happen to me.

“Wake up Shelley,” said a voice. “Time to go to the operating room.” A nurse wheeled me into the elevator while my mother looked anxiously on. “Bing!” The elevator door slid open and I was wheeled into a dark, freezing cold room. “See you in a few hours,” said my mom. The anesthesiologist injected something into my arm. My eyelids fluttered, became very heavy and finally dropped closed.

“Where does it hurt sweetie? Tell me.” A plump face wavered in front of my eyes.
“Where am I?” I asked weakly. “Mom, Dad?” Two people swam in front of my eyes. I could barely distinguish them as my parents. My stomach felt tight and I could barely move. I was confused and frightened. Was I dying? What was this place anyway? Soon, everything came into focus. Now, my stomach felt as if I had just swallowed a million pins and they were poking me. I was wheeled up to my room. My father and I watched What About Bob!? . I was half-aware that the movie was playing because I was exhausted from the anesthesia. At last, I fell into a restless sleep.






















The next day was a sunny morning and I was feeling exhilarated. The sun seemed to beam some of its great strength into me. Soon after we had eaten breakfast, a nurse stepped in. “Dr. R says that you will be leaving soon! Are you feeling better?” she asked. My dad and I packed up hurriedly because we were very eager to leave the hospital. Then, I was placed into a wheel chair. “Goodbye sweetie!” cried all the nurses. Having everyone saying goodbye made me feel like a queen. As I got into the car I thought, “Wow, I have survived a surgery!”