Submitted by Gigi on 11/5/09
When I think of courage, I think of someone saving a child from a burning building or people who dedicate their lives for the sake of justice. I personally have little resemblance to a courageous person and consider myself more of a coward. I am always worried and assuming the worst. It is easy to see it in my face. I’m an open book and the pages are all associated with fear and worry.
A few years ago, my younger brother was hospitalized with major stomach pains. The doctors weren’t sure what was wrong and he was in the hospital for two weeks. I was with him in the hospital room by the end of those two weeks when my brother begged the doctor to go home. He finally released him with me in what I saw was a reluctant decision because of pressure from my brother to escape. I was scared.
Later that night, my brother felt major pains in his stomach again. He tried to hide it but we all knew he had to go back. He cried and pleaded not to go to the hospital but I grabbed his hand and said we had to go. The fear in his eyes killed me inside. On the way to the hospital, all that was going through my head is “they don’t know what is wrong with him and he is going to die in this condition. What will my life be like without my only sibling? I have to start mentally preparing myself for the worst.”
When they admitted him into the hospital, the doctor on call said he had an intestinal blockage and that he would have to put a tube in his nose again to empty his stomach. My brother detested that tube. When he saw it, he became hysterical. I looked out to the doorway and saw my father crying as the doctors tried to put the tube in his nose. Inside I was dying in the midst of this scene but outside I was strong and telling my brother “You can do this! I am with you.” I wondered if he could see the worry in my eyes but from his reaction, he was able to calm down. I was shocked.
In the midst of crisis, it is crazy to think that you have the ability to be other than your usual self. When my parents looked scared and worried, I was able to reassure them. I might not have believed what they were saying but I stood strong for them and my brother. I felt like an imposter because deep down inside, I thought the worst. Months later, when my brother was fully recovered, he told me that my support helped him to get through it. My parents told me, specifically my dad, that they were amazed at how calm and cool I was and how helpful I had been. If they only knew. I guess I have a little courage in me but honestly, I feel that my brother was the one with courage. He had the courage to lean on his worrisome big sister when he needed support the most.
Submitted by Gigi on 11/5/09
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