Before I begin there are a few things that need to be sorted out. For one this book began when discussions arose regarding children and teenagers being medicated without any real bases, possibly at too young of an age, and therefore that psychiatrists were not doing a proper diagnosis. Second, is how those discussions relate to me. To begin it needs to be clear that during middle school I did fine in school. I managed to receive good grades just by doing the homework. As I reached seventh grade my grades on tests were poor and I began to develop the thought that I was lazy and not trying. Another important fact was that I played softball, a lot. Towards the end of seventh grade I was on two teams and working my body very hard. You may be confused as to why I am explaining all of this to you now without explaining its relevance.
[...] The nurse slides the negative into the table and then she positions the x-ray machine so that it forms the lights cross on the area of interest. Then she leaves and tells you to hold your breath. They really should put something on the ceiling to look at while you wait. After about 5 minutes of new positions and more x-rays the nurse thanks you, not like you really did anything, and gives you permission to head back to the room; which is exactly what I did after I had my x-rays. [...]
[...] My mother and I got the name of the doctor and were on our way. My mother called and scheduled my appointment with the new doctor and scheduled my bone scan. I continued to play softball and my family did not really talk about my back. Despite my horrible fear of needles I had the bone scan and sent the results to the new doctor. I finished seventh grade around the same time my sister graduated from high school. My father was already living in Chicago, which would become our new My father was given a job at the Field Museum. [...]
[...] Along the back of the house ran a white picket fence that separated the front yard from my childhood. It was like a dream walking into that backyard. It was a big fenced in yard. The yard was just big enough for our countless wiffle ball games, football, badminton, and any other sports our imaginations wanted to play. Everyday of the summer would start the same way. First after we woke up we would clean our rooms to perfection. Now what you have to understand was that clean did not mean just clean. [...]
[...] It was then that he pulled out a small tool that on one of the ends it had a circular blade. Of course my eyes got bigger and asked him what it was. was all he said. He turned it on and began to walk towards me until I stopped him and asked what he was planning on doing, but I do not think I said it quite that politely. He calmed me down and told me that the saw would not come close to me and that he was going to trim the bottom and make a hole in my stomach for breathing. [...]
[...] As I followed my family through the dinning room I noticed that in the corner of the room on the floor there was a hole that I had never noticed before. It makes you realize the fine details that you miss when you are too busy only noticing the things one uses. And so before we left I slipped a piece of paper into that hole. On that piece of paper I wrote a note that told no one in particular that this house would be no one else's but ours. [...]
APA Style reference
For your bibliographyOnline reading
with our online readerContent validated
by our reading committee
