Personal stories

They took me into the “changing” room on the second day. It was a small room that felt even smaller once they rolled the gurney in the middle of it. Mom held my head, so I wouldn’t turn around as a nurse began undressing my wounds. Every time anyone touched my wounds, I wanted to…

Emotions were running high on the day they took me to the hospital. There were still disagreements over whether it was the right decision.  The burn center was an old hospital building with tall ceilings and dark corridors. As they rolled me in on a gurney, I held my breath to avoid inhaling the smells…

Part I: Getting Burned During the month that followed, my family did a good job not feeling sorry for me in front of me. I felt trapped in my body and in our living room, lying on the couch face down the entire time. People visited almost every day. My brother told me jokes and…

July 19th, 1993 was supposed to be another hot summer day, playing badminton with friends and picking flowers to make fake fingernails.  I was 10 years old, running around with neighborhood kids in my short navy blue shorts and a t-shirt, looking boyish with a pixie haircut. Georgia was in the middle of a civil…