Coming Of Age Story

Older characters in movies are depicted as wise people who guide others along the correct paths. These adults play an important role by supporting the major characters so that they may continue after they make a mistake or stray from their goal. Elders are depicted as having great compassion and understanding or having more worldly knowledge than the other characters in the film. Though many older characters are commonly portrayed as understanding they do not always follow the archetype. Each race has their own type of elder that go about helping characters in different ways. Asian elders tend to be very strict when dealing with younger characters were as asian elders tend to be cryptic or non-exist as they want younger people to find their

When I was younger, doctor’s offices were a big part of my life. One appointment, I walked into the office, of course with my mother because of my father’s low attention span, and chose the seat that had the fewest people surrounding it. My mom grabbed a magazine and we would discuss what was going on in the news, or in our lives. I could hear my heart beating up until the nurse called my name, so I did not listen to much of what my mother was talking about. I would just stare at the pale brown walls, and wish I could just disappear in the lifelessness of it all. I always felt a rush as the nurse called my name. I would walk over and the nurse would begin to make small talk, which I was never interested in having. I just wanted to get out of there. Each time I knew I was going to hear something I didn’t want to. Whether I had to start a new medication, or have

The Coming-of-Age Day in Japan is expected to celebrate the new greens stepping into the society for the first time. Nevertheless, recently it has put more emphasis on the rising incidence social withdrawal. The rapidly changing and competitive social life and changes in family relationship in Japan contribute to the emergence of hikikomori. The term is first coined by psychiatrists, referring to people who are being severely social withdrawal. It has effect on mental health and raised public awareness since 2000 (Watts, 2002).

Dr. Udinov begins to reluctantly prep his station for his first EML procedure. He places his cold, stainless steel tools in order knowing he will perform his first ill intended operation. He walks to the sink mounted on the wall to wash his hands of all the germs. The dark soap slowly rinses down the drain and he then knows it’s time. He puts on his latex purple gloves, a white surgical mask and a light blue mesh gown. Opening the door with his elbow, Dr.Udinov realizes that it is impossible to back down now. He slowly walks to the outline of the almost lifeless body covered up with a white cover. Usually Dr. Udinov says a short prayer before touching his patient's body but he did not think it would be appropriate to pray over an ungodly act. The patient has already been placed under anesthesia along with Succinylcholine, which means it was still awake, painless, but awake. He removes the thin layer of cloth from over, what he now knows is, a african american womans body. The paralyzed women bucked her eyes while struggling to move, she was petrified. Dr. Udinov places his surgical headlights above her vagina. Since he she is a female, he will perform an Abdominal Hysterectomy to remove her uterus. First he cuts a large rectangle into the cloth and places it over the section of her body he will be focusing on. He cleans the area with the dark disinfectant soap and

Suddenly, a woman in a white coat enters the waiting room and approached us. Her nameplate read Dr. Hartman. I immediately rise to my feet before her. She looked solemn, almost sympathetic. It felt like someone had just stabbed me in the chest.

It is dingy down here, and the smell of medicine is worse than normal. What is going on today? That is when I got a big whiff of death. Okay, I think I just need to lay down. So I stumbled back to the elevator, but before I made it there, I heard a quiet moan. It sounded like it came from the supplies room. Scared of what it might be, I slowly walked to the door and opened it. The sight behind the door was atrocious. There laid a humongous pile of cadavers. The people in it were the nurses, doctors, and patients from this hospital! I knew that I would not stay down here any longer, but as soon as I began to back out the door and head up to call the police. That dark shadow of a man appeared. While backing up into the room to get away from him, I fell onto the carcusses. I never dreamed in a million years that this is how my day would end up. He hovered over me, and, well, the twenty other bodies under me. When he got about two inches from my face, He slipped on blood and fell on me. Yuck! While we were trying to get up, something grabbed hold of me from inside the pile. It was pulling me inside the huge mound of corpses. The shadowy man just laughed at me and left the room. As I lost sight of the door, the smell became even stronger than before. It was unbearable. As the smell of death grew, I became nauseous and dizzy. It was the worst feeling ever, and I did not know what to do, and then I felt something else on my neck. It was a dead person biting me. It started to hurt more and more, until the pain was oppressive. It felt as if I were in a haze. Then, I had memories of my life flash before me. My breaths became slower and were farther apart, when everything turned

came to talk to the patient at 1920 that she had to have a C-section because the baby’s HR was decreased and it was not safe for the baby. The Dr. asked mom if she could sign a consent form for the C-section. The patient told her husband to sign the consent since she was not feeling good. The patient was shivering and feeling extremely cold. The patient reminded the nurse that she was a Jehovah’s Witness and that she could not get any blood products. At 1930 I help the nurse to disinfect the patient with sage wipes. The patient was headed to the OR at 1940.

I am sitting at the clinic in a blue gown ready for my mammogram and waiting for my name to be called out. My husband is sitting patiently next to me knowing I don’t like these appointments. The clinic is clean and sterile with a big purified water jug sitting in the corner of the waiting room. I decided to have a quick drink before I go in for this painful procedure. A young, attractive woman was sitting across the room talking on the phone. We tried not to eaves drop on her conversation but was difficult because she was talking so loud. I thought to myself, I wonder if she was as scared as me. My thoughts were now running rapidly through my mind. I kept telling myself everything was going to be fine.

I was led into a room that oddly resembled a doctor's office. I blinked, glancing around. I wonder if this'll be just like a normal doctor's appointment. Part of me hoped it would be and that I would be free to go afterward. Another part of me highly doubted I'd be released to go home after this. I couldn't pinpoint exactly what was going on here, but whatever it was, it wasn't normal.

Coming of age refers to the time when a person becomes an adult or matures. Short stories or any stories of coming of age indicates the protagonist’s growth from an immature human being to an individual that is concerned with others in society. The characters in the story maintain a well-known personality. Characters in a grown-up story has a well-known personality and has emotions that revolve around their own individual. Climatically, characters in children stories will reach the maturity of an older adult as the story ends. In the story, characters will face some type of challenge with the adult world and face challenges for themselves. Challenges in the adult world can be money, relationships, cultural background, and or other adults (Patty

Although, my mom reassured me I was still in fact a girl I left that doctor’s office feeling confused, distraught, but most of all disappointed. Disappointed because the person I expected to comfort and heal sat coldly across from me without any empathy. As an impressionable 10-year-old I was instantly filled with disdain for the profession. Thankfully my experience is now merely an anecdote, but many others aren’t as lucky.

The nurse finally came back as what seemed like forever and asked me to walk to the x-ray room for further scans. I then proceeded to walk to a room which felt like I was a cellmate walking to a prison. Changed into a hospital gown which was like wearing a prison jumpsuit, and i laid on this big table with a huge generator like machine just waiting at the end of the table. A strange lady walked up behind me and blinded me with a huge light that was attached to the ceiling. “just relax and hold your breath when we put you into the scanner” is what she said, I felt as if I was being experimented on. I looked up and on the ceiling I Saw a display of white clouds moving across the picture. I kindly asked the lady if the clouds were actually moving, but she told me otherwise. I don

What is coming of age? In broadest terms, a transition from childhood to adulthood defines coming of age, but how can a literary character “grow up” in a fifteen-page short story or even a 200-page graphic novel? The protagonist usually reaches an epiphany and discovers something that taints the naivité and innocence associated with being a child. For instance, Omovo, the Nigerian protagonist of “In the Shadow of War” by Ben Okri, follows a mysterious woman into the woods. His realization occurs when he discovers the horrible truth of war; Nigerian soldiers assault her. On the other hand, Marji from Persepolis by Marjane Satrapi is more slowly exposed different aspects war over the course of the novel and eventually leaves her home country, signaling a coming of age. Both Omovo and Marji discover the horrible truths of war during their story and lose their innocence; these stories reveal that a traumatic event triggers a coming of age.

“Y-y-you’re d-dead,” the nurse stammers out brusquely. Shaking with fear, the nurse’s hand points at the mirror in the corner of the room. Expeditiously I rise, every movement I make paling the nurse to a ghostly white. I pull out the tubes embedded in my arms and step off the bed. Weakened, my legs burn and resist the exercise. Finally, after what seemed like hours, when only a minute passed, I arrived in front of the mirror. Wearing the typical hospital gown, I quickly noticed the draft on my backside. Cheeks red hot, I turn back around to the nurse who, still in a state of shock, didn’t even notice.

I learned a few days after my surgery that I had lost over half of the blood in my body, and that I should have died. And had it not have been for this shadow/ this doctor, I would have. But where did she come from? She was not my doctor. She had no right or reason to come into my hospital room. But one day she came alone and visited me in my hospital room. And that day she told me the most