帮我找一份A Defining Moment的英语范文啊
答案:1 悬赏:50 手机版
解决时间 2021-01-09 15:55
- 提问者网友:活着好累
- 2021-01-09 08:54
帮我找一份A Defining Moment的英语范文啊
最佳答案
- 五星知识达人网友:醉吻情书
- 2021-01-09 10:16
申请美国大学本科的PS范文3: My life defining moment
My mother was diagnosed with
cancer. It all started in April of my sophomore year when she complained
of exhaustion, nausea, a back ache, and bad breath. I remember the day
perfectly. It was Easter morning and my mom was scheduled for a
procedure to examine what was predicted to be a blockage in her bile
duct; it was also the Easter we found out that it wasn’t a blockage or
build up, but rather a tumor. A tumor that would require four surgeries,
three months in intensive care, and the rearranging of her whole
digestive system. But out of those one hundred and twenty two days spent
in ICU alone, the moment that sticks out in my mind was the day I
walked in and no longer saw my mother.
The woman that was
in front of me in no way physically, mentally, or emotionally resembled
the strong female figure that raised me. Her once fiery red hair was now
dulled. Her porcelain white skin looked grayish. I was scared to hug
her or even touch her because her once sturdy body now looked so
breakable. They barely fed her. All they gave her to eat were ice chips.
The moment I walked in ready to tell her about my day at school, I
could hear her begging, pleading for more ice chips. She had already
sneaked in more than she should have, and when she thought no one was
looking, she would drink the forbidden water that would melt into the
bottom of the bowl. In that instance, a bitter sweet feeling overcame
me: that was the woman I knew and loved; she saw what she wanted and
went after it. That feeling soon disappeared. I heard her scream out in
agony “It hurts, don’t do that, it hurts" as the nurses pierced her skin
with a pain reliever. I've always disliked injections, but that made me
loathe them. When it became too much to bear, my father ushered me out
of the room.
That was the day of her first emergency
surgery, and the day she almost didn’t come back alive. I remember
feeling so helpless, as if I was a child again. I had to keep reminding
myself that I wasn’t a child. My mother had raised me to become an
intelligent, mature, and brave young woman. In that moment, I would have
to act as the person my mother raised me to be; a person my mother
would be proud of. In this difficult time, I learned a lot about myself.
I learned I possessed as inner strength. I learned to be patient, and
to ignore all the petty dilemmas I once deemed life altering. I learned
how to deal with fear, frustration, injections, and surgeries. But most
importantly, in seeing my mother's fierce bravery and independence, I
learned that I was very much like her.
My mother was diagnosed with
cancer. It all started in April of my sophomore year when she complained
of exhaustion, nausea, a back ache, and bad breath. I remember the day
perfectly. It was Easter morning and my mom was scheduled for a
procedure to examine what was predicted to be a blockage in her bile
duct; it was also the Easter we found out that it wasn’t a blockage or
build up, but rather a tumor. A tumor that would require four surgeries,
three months in intensive care, and the rearranging of her whole
digestive system. But out of those one hundred and twenty two days spent
in ICU alone, the moment that sticks out in my mind was the day I
walked in and no longer saw my mother.
The woman that was
in front of me in no way physically, mentally, or emotionally resembled
the strong female figure that raised me. Her once fiery red hair was now
dulled. Her porcelain white skin looked grayish. I was scared to hug
her or even touch her because her once sturdy body now looked so
breakable. They barely fed her. All they gave her to eat were ice chips.
The moment I walked in ready to tell her about my day at school, I
could hear her begging, pleading for more ice chips. She had already
sneaked in more than she should have, and when she thought no one was
looking, she would drink the forbidden water that would melt into the
bottom of the bowl. In that instance, a bitter sweet feeling overcame
me: that was the woman I knew and loved; she saw what she wanted and
went after it. That feeling soon disappeared. I heard her scream out in
agony “It hurts, don’t do that, it hurts" as the nurses pierced her skin
with a pain reliever. I've always disliked injections, but that made me
loathe them. When it became too much to bear, my father ushered me out
of the room.
That was the day of her first emergency
surgery, and the day she almost didn’t come back alive. I remember
feeling so helpless, as if I was a child again. I had to keep reminding
myself that I wasn’t a child. My mother had raised me to become an
intelligent, mature, and brave young woman. In that moment, I would have
to act as the person my mother raised me to be; a person my mother
would be proud of. In this difficult time, I learned a lot about myself.
I learned I possessed as inner strength. I learned to be patient, and
to ignore all the petty dilemmas I once deemed life altering. I learned
how to deal with fear, frustration, injections, and surgeries. But most
importantly, in seeing my mother's fierce bravery and independence, I
learned that I was very much like her.
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