Scan Medical Insurance

Whats my story like? Be ruthless!?

I’m warm. I'm sleepy. There’s a noise; rhythmic and steady but it’s really annoying....Beep beep beep. I should open my eyes and try and stop that infuriating sound, but I can’t be bothered. I'm nice and cosy, I’d be even cosier on my side – hang on I can’t lie on my side! My eyes shoot open and the annoying beeping sound quickens its pace slightly. My eyes focus on a boring white ceiling, it looks like that’s all I'm gonna see; my neck won’t cooperate with me. A sweaty hand brushes the hair out of my eyes, thank god, then smoothes my cheek gently. So, I can feel that. As I open my mouth I realise I can move my face and feel a breeze coming from some unseen source, “What’s happened?” oh god, I sound like a frog! “Frankie, its OK honey. We’re in hospital. Thank heavens you’re awake!” It’s my Mum. Hospital? What’s going on? “Mum, what happened?” “The bridge…do you remember?” My mind’s blank. I struggle to remember. It comes back to me in vivid images. The bridge, Lucy and Emmy shaking their heads at me, their faces twisted with fear. Will Mullins swimming below me, beaming up at me, gesturing for me to jump. “Don’t do it!” Lucy had shouted frantically. “Please Frank, it’s stupid!” I hadn’t listened to them, I remember taking my jacket and trainers off and shakily climbing onto the wall of the bridge. The adrenaline had kicked in then; I waved my arms wildly in the air and then did a little wiggle. Big mistake. I think my sock slipped on some of that slimy moss stuff that grows in the cracks of walls. I remember screaming as I fell, and then a loud cracking sound where I hit the rocks at the bank of the river. I can’t remember anything else; I wonder how long I’ve been here? A door opens, there are footsteps coming towards me, squeaking on the polished floor of the ward. “Miss Reynolds, I’m glad you’re awake. My name is Doctor Lewis,” he’s crouched down beside me, his forehead is creased (uh oh) I sort through the all questions popping up in my head and pick the one that I’m dreading to here the answer of, “How bad is it?” my voice is still, “I’m afraid it doesn’t look like its going to be good news. The MRI scan has revealed that you’ve badly broken three bones in the higher part of your cervical spine.” “Does that mean I’m paralysed?” my voice is barely a whisper, it’s layered with fear. “It’s a little too early to see the full extent of your injuries as everything is swollen. We have injected steroids so the swelling won’t last much longer than four weeks but I’m sorry to say that unless we can operate…we’re pretty certain you won’t be able to walk again.” I nod numbly, barely taking it in. His voice sounds solemn and concerned for me. I guess I'm in real trouble. Why did I have to get cocky on the bridge? I bet if I’d just jumped off – over the rocks – I wouldn’t be here right now. He’s still talking to me in a monotone that he’s obviously perfected for times like this: when he has to deliver bad news. I’m not listening anymore, my heads woken up and it’s alive with questions. What if I am paralysed? What will I do? This can’t be happening. It isn’t! “I can’t believe it…I will walk. I’m fine.” My voice couldn’t be shaking more if I was sat in a freezer. “I understand how you are feeling Frankie, at the moment you are going through the first stages of accepting paralysis; shock and denial.” He smiles a sad, kind smile at me and Mum, then turns and leaves us. I try in vain to stop the tears that are threatening but they well up just the same. When I realise I can’t wipe them away they stream harder. Nothing can stop the tears now, they’re in full flow. Rolling down my face, then as they reach the middle of my neck, I can’t feel them anymore. It’s bizarre. Mum’s in shock too though she’s trying to reassure me that she still loves me, and that I'm still me. I was determined to move after Doctor Lewis left, but It was useless. No part of my body wanted to do what I wanted it to, apart from my eyes and mouth. I tried a small movement, a twitch of my fingers, a curl of my toes. But its like they’re not there, it’s as of my head is resting on a pillow, attached to nothing. A lump the size of a small apple is now permanently lodged in my throat and I feel as worse than I did when I got off the ‘spinning whizball’ at Alton Towers. Mum senses my fear; “Everything is going to be okay, being scared is the least that is expected of you,” I nod glumly, and close my eyes and think. If I end up in a wheelchair I don’t know what I’d do. So many things in my life I wouldn’t be able to do. Why me? *** It’s been four weeks since I first met Doctor Lewis and life’s been rough. A couple of weeks ago they stabilised my neck using halo traction. It was horrible; they drilled four titanium screws through my skin, into my skull. They attached about eight kilograms of weight, to the head end of my bed. They said it was to stretch my neck and give my neck space to heal. The good thing is that it mea

Public Comments

1. The story: It's a pretty good story so far. To tell the truth it's not really my type of story, but it's a good idea, I just don't know exactly how far you could take the idea. Telling the story: It's a pretty good draft, but has a lot of places where it can be improved You make good use of descriptive writing, dialogue, and real time spelling and grammar: I hate editing for them but it is necessary so check it. first, put three dots in between each beep, it will slow down the reader closer to the pace you want. Second, try not to explain motivation directly For example, don't say "I'd be cozier on my side" just have the character try to move, then find the barrier, and don't say "hang on". Third, avoid the word should. Fourth, it's my mum is unneccessary, and again you sound like you are talking to the reader, avoid that. There are a lot of unneccessary stuff that you can take out. Also a few places where you can rework sentences to subtly change meaning to better tell the story