HELPPPP on ESSAY thanks

sexy123
Fri, 29 Oct 2004 16:02:21 +0000

What do u think?
truthfully?
thanks

“An operation?” my mother gasped.
“Yes, I am afraid so.”
“There has to be another way,” tears began to fall from my mother’s eyes.
“Well, we can try physical therapy,” the doctor replied, “but I doubt it will lead to any improvement.”
As I approached my uncle from a distance, I realized that his eyes were fastened on my feet as he gave a chortle. When I finally was a few steps from him, I realized why.
“You’re waddling like a penguin!” he yelled. I looked at him with puzzlement.
For years, no one had ever noticed, that while I walk, my flat feet are positioned in an awkward way that gives the impression that I am waddling. Instead of walking in a straight forward manner, my feet turned outward. Consequentially, when my compulsive mother discovered this “problem” of mine, she hastily took me to one of the top orthopedics in the city. I walked back and forth for the doctor like a runway model, as he examined my legs and took precise notes on his clipboard. He finally came up with the treatment for my “waddling” – surgery. Without interruption, the doctor dictated the intensive procedure that would follow and described how immobile my life would be the subsequent year. At that moment, everything began to spiral downward. I knew I could not live through the torment of not being able to walk for six months, let alone go through the apprehensive thought of the surgical procedure. Fortunately, my mother was one step ahead of me as she miserably convinced the doctor that I attempt physical therapy first.
The therapy was not easy and it was like nothing I had ever done before. I knew that if I wanted to continue my life like I always had, I needed to avoid this operation at all costs. It was my incentive that I give a hundred percent effort, working intensely with my physical therapist, at home, and at the local fitness center. Surprisingly for me, the therapy made my legs even stronger, and soon I became conscious of the fact that I was able to run faster. I began to gain more of an interest for running as I challenged and defeated my classmates in relay races after school.
After six months of training and therapy, judgment day took place at the doctor’s office. Was the therapy useless? As my mother crossed her fingers, I did one last runway walk for the doctor. Fortunately, the operation was not needed! I successfully completed the harsh training of physical therapy and in return I acquired something valuable out of it. I obtained the skill and love for running, which eventually led me to compete in my high school’s winter and spring track team. Working hard for something pays off, sometimes in ways I did not expect.


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