Date
Perspective
By Miss Baan Hofman
Perspective. The way someone looks at the events in his or her own life, whether for better or worse, may change as they grow and help them become who they are. When I was born, I was born with a cleft lip and palate. This means the palate (roof of my mouth) and upper lip were open, like an open slit. Throughout my life, I have had many surgeries to repair the roof of my mouth and upper lips, as well as surgeries on my ears and nose. One such surgery sticks out in my mind, and my perspective on all the surgeries then, and now has changed over the course of years.
Packing, a long plane ride, checking into the hospital and finding my room, these were all routine events for me growing up during my eleven surgeries that I had to have due to my cleft lip and palate. In addition, there were yearly checkups and checkups after each surgery. All my surgeries and check-ups took place in Chicago, IL at Shriner’s Hospital for Children.
I cannot eat the night before. I awake in the morning and shower and drink some orange juice. I am in fourth grade and it is fall in the year of ?? Soon the nurse comes in and lays my surgery gown on the end of my bed. She tells me to dress and she will be back in a few minutes to put my IV in. I like the numbing cream she puts on my hand before she sticks the inside of my delicate arm, right adjacent to the elbow (imagery- sight). Soon, I will be going up to the waiting room where they will give me anesthesia and begin the surgery.
In this particular surgery, the doctors will be removing bone from my hip to build up the roof of my mouth, and they will do a tuck on my upper lip so that the skin is not hanging down so much. Although I do not mind being in the hospital, I would rather be running around at school and learning in the classroom, instead of having to do the work on my own and miss out on running around with my friends. Nevertheless, it is time for them to “put me to sleep” for my surgery. This time, I try to play a little game and not close my eyes when I get sleepy. I fight the anesthesia; I WANT to stay awake, but I am as tired as a bear during hibernation (simile). Soon, I am wheeled into the operating room. I’ve never been awake long enough to get to see the inside of the operating room! The nurse gently speaks, “You are still awake,” and then she smiles.
The next thing I know is I am awaking. I am miserable; I can’t move. I am in excruciating pain. My body is stiff; I’m a robot (metaphor). I turn my head and my mom is putting down her magazine, glad to see me. She gives me a gentle kiss and asks how I’m feeling. Um, not feeling well at all. Hello. I have to go to the bathroom too! Great, this particular surgery won’t allow me to walk for a few days. I hate the feeling of going to the bathroom in a bed pan! I decide to hold it. A few minutes later, a nurse comes in to check on me. Same routine.
“How are you feeling?” she inquires.
“Fine, can I see myself?” I ask. I’m beginning to wake up a little better, and I want to see what I look like! My face feels like it is going to crack, and it feels as if it is as heavy as a ton of bricks.
“Of course!” She grabs a mirror and I look.
“I look like a monkey!” I shriek. The mirror is staring (personification) back at me with a face I do not approve of. Seriously, my face is swollen to the max, no wonder it felt like it was going to crack!
“You do NOT look like a monkey! You are beautiful,” the nurse admonishes me. I will never forget those words that came from my favorite nurse. She made me feel at ease about my current condition.
Soon I face the dreaded feeling of going to the bathroom in a bed pan, worse feeling in the world. After a day, I start to choke down some soft food. In a couple of days, the swollenness of my face and the pain all over my body begin to gradually subside. A few more days, and my mom and I will be on our way home.
Perspective. I did not “like,” having to have check-ups and surgeries when I was younger. However, I did like that it was making me “beautiful” and fixing the way my lips looked. For me, it was a way of life, something I always knew. Hospitals did not scare me and sometimes I liked the “mini-vacation.” Other times, I dreaded the surgeries and having to leave home. Back then, I looked at the surgeries as physical improvements. Today, I am thankful for and realize the strength and beauty of one’s inner self is what really matters. My character and how I treat others is more important than the emphasis that I placed on “how I looked.” I am very fortunate and lucky to have only had a cleft lip and palate, but then again, someone else might say they are very fortunate they have one leg instead of none. I believe that no matter what happens in one’s life, for the better or worse, it is how one responds to those situations that really determines ones happiness and makes them who they are. Do I still worry and care about my looks? Of course, but they do not determine how I live my life, and they do not determine who likes me and who doesn’t. What about you? What in your life could be less dreadful if you changed your perspective?