Advanced Essay #1: The Bigger Help

Growing up as a young man, you’re taught to “man up,” and deal with things on your own. The thing is everyone needs a helping hand sometimes despite how strong you are. There were times where I needed a helping hand when I was in a vulnerable state. One of those times was in 9th grade around the end of the school year.

       I woke up feeling drained and to my surprise, my throat was killing me. My eyes were barely open and I slowly trailed to my mom’s bedroom. The terrible thought of swallowing and feeling like someone is sliding sandpaper down my throat was excruciating. These feelings were only a few symptoms of strep throat. My mom in a quiet tone, “Can you please take me to the emergency room? My throat is killing me.” She replies, “Of course, just tell me what’s wrong while we get ready.” I explained to her it feels like I have people scratching the inside of my throat to the point that it burned. We assumed I had strep throat again so we immediately get into the car and head to the ER. This morning ride on such a dreadful day of my life felt like forever. Every time I wanted to swallow, it brought tears to my eyes and a slight flinch joined the pain as well. Not to mention the lack of sleep I had which only made it worse. We arrived at the ER at around 5:30 AM with nothing stopping us to get checked into the hospital. In the hospital room, it was bright and smelled like it was just cleaned. My mom and I sat waiting for the doctor. He was pretty tall had brown hair, and was wearing the typical doctor scrubs. After he asked us for our general information he began to examine me. I tried to ignore the strong pain in the back of my throat and the slight feeling of a headache beginning to creep up. After the examination, the doctor says with a smile, “There are no signs of strep throat, there’s just some redness and swollen lymph nodes. There is nothing to be worried about.” My shoulders dropped as a sign of relief. My mom took the small piece of paper with the prescription of the medicine that should cure the intolerable pain in my throat. Sadly that wasn’t the truth about my situation.

People don’t always have to be hurt or sick to need a helping hand. A person could get yourself into trouble without meaning to. Or be involved with something that wasn’t their fault. Another moment where I needed one was in 8th grade, and I was in the situation where I was involved with something that wasn’t my fault.

“Kai, I just want you to be the best person you can be, but clearly this email says otherwise,” my mom says in disappointment. The side of the lunchroom I sat on was in a complete mess. Spaghetti noodles on the wall, meatballs on the floor, tomato sauce on the table. It was complete chaos around me. While this was going on I was minding my business just eating my lunch. My teacher emailed all the parents of the kids that sat in that section even though I had no part in it. The teacher explained, “ None of the children that had a part in this would be able to go on the 8th-grade class trip,” which ripped the heart out of my chest. That was going to be the best thing of the whole school year. A good time at lunch that left smiles around all of the people around me left me in disbelief. I told my mom my side of the story and she emailed the teacher back. It wasn’t a long email something short and straight to the point. She said, “My child had no part and I don’t think he should be penalized for the events that took place at lunch.” A sparkle of hope began to form in my mind hoping that I would still have a chance to go to the 8th-grade class trip.

I’m not saying I wouldn’t be able to live my life without my mom assisting me every step of the way, but when she’s around it’s a big help. Without the help of others from time to time life would be hard being on your own. You could be the strongest man on Earth but if you get badly injured you would need someone to help take care of you, and it’s okay to ask for help. Without my mom and other support systems around me, I would be a helpless mess.