Quarter 4 Portfolio

Quarter 2:

Memoir Vignette

This project was to take a snapshot of my life and make it into a small story. This was to utilize and create my personal piece of non-fiction. A vignette is a stand a lone story that you can fit into the bigger picture of your life story.

      The Miracle Child

             What? When? How? Why? She’s not going to live? Inconceivable. Confused, maybe? Unimaginable. Scared. What is going to happen to her at such a young age?  Is she going to live or die?  Is she going to live to see 5, 10, or even 15 years old? (Repetition for effect)These are just some of the questions that probably ran through my parents mind when they found out that I was really sick and possibly not going to live. Come to find out, I had this horrible sickness called sepsis. It was a horrible condition in which my body was fighting a severe infection that has spread to the bloodstream.

            It was on December 17, 1996, that I was transported to the hospital at such a young age. No one knew what was going wrong with me. Not even my parents knew. They only suspected that something wasn’t normal with me. When I arrived at the hospital, I was immediately hooked on to tubes and machines. I had tubes going in and out of my body. Breathing tube, feeding tube… You name it, I had it.  After doing multiple tests and blood work, the doctor noticed that I had this rare sickness and that there was a possibility that I wasn’t going to live. The doctor said, “I’m so sorry Mr. and Mrs. Maddox but your daughter has a chance of not living.” (Dialogue) It got even worse. I had to stay at the hospital for four months. (Dialogue) I wonder how they could’ve felt. Maybe scared, mad, or even upset. I just know that they weren’t happy.

            Hours have gone by. Tick, tock, tick, tock, (repetition for effect) and I’m still hooked onto these machine. Next thing you know, most of all of my family was there in the hospital praying for me and staying at the hospital for days waiting to hear any new news from the doctors. My mom was so scared. She didn’t want me to go, especially since I was her 5^th child to be conceived, but only one to survive. My mom had 4 miscarriages before she birthed me. I bet that had to be tough for her and my dad.  It would have been hard for her to hear that I have passed away. All they could do is not just depend on what the doctors said but what God had to say. They knew that if it was my time to go, then it was just my time to go. Would it be devastating? Yes. However, things would not have made sense as to why I would survive the birth but not the sickness. If I was the 5^th child to be conceived but then the only one to survive, then there had to be a reason why I was the only one to make it into what you call life. Hmmm. Now that I try to look back and listen to the stories and the pictures, I realize that as a get older, I have a story to tell and let people know that miracles do happen.

            It was the cold morning of Christmas Eve on December 24, 1996,  my mom was shopping at the Kids R’ Us shopping for gifts. As she was walking down the aisle, she bumped into this lady. Of course when you bump into someone, you say excuse me. The lady said, “Just know that your daughter will be fine and everything is going to be okay.” (Dialogue). My mom never met this woman or ever heard of her a day in her life. As soon as my mom turned around and looked back, the lady wasn’t there anymore. She looked for her all around the store. But the funny thing is that they were in the back of the store so the lady couldn’t have gone far. My mom looked high and low like she was investigating a crime scene (metaphor). It was like she was an angel sent from heaven just to let my mom know that I was going to okay. (simile). To hear that being said, I bet it was a sigh of relief. She went back to the hospital knowing that everything was going to be fine. Still, there was like a sea of people just standing around waiting and waiting and waiting. At least I know that my family cared enough about me!

            I stayed at the hospital for a couple more days. Doctors were monitoring me making sure I was doing okay. When they said that I was going to be okay, it was a miracle that I was even going to survived. I could have died right there on the spot. However, there was some bad news. The doctors said that I had to take physical therapy for a whole 6 months. I had to learn how to breathe and how to sit up again. Having all of those breathing tubes coming in and out of my body just messed me up big time!

As I look at the pictures of when I was sick, what I saw was something that I knew wasn’t going to control me for the rest of my life or even take my life. I know that I have a purpose for living on this earth and I am destined to do great things. It’s a miracle that I survived and I’m glad that I am here 15 years later healthy, and just fine!