My Past
Lately, I have been pretty busy going through the stuff in my room. I realized that I could sell some of the old toys, books, clothes, and other stuff that I don't use anymore to help earn money. While I was going through the different boxes I found on the shelves of my closet, I found this tiny little brown bear with a bandage over his right eye. It brought back a turmoil of emotions that are connected to the little bear.
When I was 3-years-old, I had a tumor behind my right eye. I don't remember much about it except for waking up in a dark room, playing in the waiting room, and when I picked out the little bear. The pictures from after the surgery aren't pretty. My eyelid was all bruised and there was a big bandaid over my eye. My dad tells me that I put bandaids on all of my stuffed animals, helping them get better.
Now the only thing that shows from the surgery, is some bone missing from my eyebrow bone. It is weird to think back to that and realize it isn't really a common thing. In elementary, one girl would tell everyone that I had a glass eye. I didn't and I don't, but apparently having surgery so near to your eye meant that your eye must be glass.
There is a picture from that time where I was holding onto the little bear, and back then it was a quarter of my size. Now it fits in the palm of my hand. Isn't that crazy? I knew that I have grown a lot since I was 3, but that just blows my mind. How could I have been so tiny?
Every time that I have mentioned the surgery from when I was little to my friends, they have asked about my memories or if they got all of the tumor. To answer both of those questions, I don't remember a lot but they are very clear memories, and they didn't get all of the tumor. The tumor exploded, which is why the surgery was sort of a rushed into hospital kind of thing.
As for the memories, I like two of them. When I got the little bear, the nurse had rolled me over to this gigantic tree that had stuffed animals on each branch. She told me to choose one to have. I almost chose a red and orange rooster, but the little bear was too cute.
As for the waiting room, I remember it being this huge room with all of these toys. It was great, they even had this little fake stove. Looking at the waiting rooms for kids now, I know the abundance of the memory was because of imagination and how small I was.
The last of the memories, I don't like. One was of the moment right before the surgery, when they put the mask with the anesthetic over my mouth and nose. They told me to count to ten, but I remember struggling after 4. I passed out not long after, but it sort of terrifies me. I can't really handle things too close to my face.
I also remember the moment after my surgery. I guess it was late and after visiting hours by the time I woke up because the lights were out and the shadows were everywhere. The bed was hard, crinkly, there were glints in certain parts of the room, and there was a really bright light coming from a certain spot. I think that was the door, but I didn't know it then. I screamed and cried, which is the ending of that memory.
My mom says that they called my parents when I started screaming and they came as fast as they could. I guess the fact I was so scared made it so that they could visit. I wonder how long I was out for, or how long the surgery was.
It is funny that the thing that sparked all of these memories again, and emotions, was a tiny little brown bear with a band-aid over his right eye.
There is a picture from that time where I was holding onto the little bear, and back then it was a quarter of my size. Now it fits in the palm of my hand. Isn't that crazy? I knew that I have grown a lot since I was 3, but that just blows my mind. How could I have been so tiny?
Every time that I have mentioned the surgery from when I was little to my friends, they have asked about my memories or if they got all of the tumor. To answer both of those questions, I don't remember a lot but they are very clear memories, and they didn't get all of the tumor. The tumor exploded, which is why the surgery was sort of a rushed into hospital kind of thing.
As for the memories, I like two of them. When I got the little bear, the nurse had rolled me over to this gigantic tree that had stuffed animals on each branch. She told me to choose one to have. I almost chose a red and orange rooster, but the little bear was too cute.
As for the waiting room, I remember it being this huge room with all of these toys. It was great, they even had this little fake stove. Looking at the waiting rooms for kids now, I know the abundance of the memory was because of imagination and how small I was.
The last of the memories, I don't like. One was of the moment right before the surgery, when they put the mask with the anesthetic over my mouth and nose. They told me to count to ten, but I remember struggling after 4. I passed out not long after, but it sort of terrifies me. I can't really handle things too close to my face.
I also remember the moment after my surgery. I guess it was late and after visiting hours by the time I woke up because the lights were out and the shadows were everywhere. The bed was hard, crinkly, there were glints in certain parts of the room, and there was a really bright light coming from a certain spot. I think that was the door, but I didn't know it then. I screamed and cried, which is the ending of that memory.
My mom says that they called my parents when I started screaming and they came as fast as they could. I guess the fact I was so scared made it so that they could visit. I wonder how long I was out for, or how long the surgery was.
It is funny that the thing that sparked all of these memories again, and emotions, was a tiny little brown bear with a band-aid over his right eye.
Comments
Post a Comment