The Most Traumatic Night of My Life :: essays papers

The Most Traumatic Night of My Life It happened about a month ago on a warm Tuesday night in august. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, but I was soon to find out differently. I was about to experience the most traumatic event of my life. I was at my boyfriend Will’s band practice in downtown with him and his three friends. We decided to go check out some abandoned rooms in the old, run down three-story apartment building in the search of cool stuff for their practice spot. We walked into one room that turned out to be an old after hours club that was no longer in use. There were some useful things, someone grabbed a couple chairs, someone else took a couple speakers that looked like they would still work, and I carried a full-length mirror. As we proceeded into the hallway, I led followed by the rest of the crew and we headed back to their room. When we were about ten feet from where I was going to put the mirror down, for some reason the mirror just broke in half in my hand. I tried saving the other half from smashing on the ground and a jagged piece sliced deep into my wrist. Everyone saw the mirror smash but didn’t realize what had happened to me. I could barely speak. I was so shocked I just pointed down to my wrist. It all happened so quick probably in a matter of about 5 seconds. Every time my heart beat, blood would gush out of the wound. Everyone was talking to me but their words were sort of blurred together. My boyfriend took his shirt off and wrapped it tightly around my wrist. He said to hold my arm above my heart to slow the bleeding. Luckily we were only about five minutes away from Mercy Hospital. So we got in the car I was feeling really light headed and was afraid I would pass out. My mother used to work in the emergency room so I got in pretty quickly. I was still in horrible pain though. Then a nurse came in and put an antiseptic liquid on my wrist I asked her what it was for and she said â€Å"the doctors going to be in soon to stitch you up.