First three paragraphs of 2nd draft
Posted: Sun Sep 12, 2010 12:49 am
Any input would be great and if you could grade on a scale of 1 to 10, 1 being it completely cancels out your LSAT/GPA, 5 being it does nothing one way or another, and 10 being greatest ever, I would appreciate that as well.
The cancer ward of a hospital is likely to be the last place anyone would go to find a laugh but on one February afternoon I found exactly that in the Winship Cancer Institute at Emory University. It was when my mother had returned from the gift shop with a button on her sweater that read simply “Cancer Sucks” that I could not help but laugh. Profound understatements always have the potential for humor and there is undoubtedly no greater understatement than “Cancer Sucks.” I know this because for over two years I was entrusted with the responsibility of caring for my mother who suffered from this merciless disease. The effect of this experience imbued me with both a strong work ethic and a sense of responsibility to both my family and community.
The most trying aspect of taking care of my mother was likely the frequent trips to hospital for chemotherapy treatment. Having to watch my mother sleep while poisoned poured slowly into her veins contrasted sharply in my mind to the often-heard saying that one does ‘battle’ with cancer. Nothing could be further from the truth. Any ‘fight’ with cancer amounts to little more than passive torture. Through all of the pains of her illness my mother remained adamant throughout that her main concern was still seeing me do well in school. It had always been her wish to one day see me argue a case in court. My mother loved the law and as a lobbyist she had drastically changed the state of legislation affected battered women and children in the state of Georgia. It was because of her that I decided to first become a political science major and second to add a sociology double major to better understand patriarchal social structures and their effects on violence against women.
The beginning of the end started on February 21st, 2010 when my mother was diagnosed with a brain tumor. I know that it was pure happenstance that my mother was diagnosed on my birthday but that does little to blunt the anger that I experienced at what felt like a capricious act of cruelty on the part of the universe. I say the universe because I have never found the notion of a higher power to be a very convincing one. Consequently it concerned me how I would cope with the eventual loss of my mother without the crutch of spirituality. If there is an afterlife then it does not matter if you lose someone because it will only be a matter of a relatively few years before you see them again. When my mother did die it was unsurprisingly devastating but in that devastation I found motivation. I found a drive to take up my mother’s mantle for women and children especially as it pertains to violent crimes perpetrated towards women and children.
The cancer ward of a hospital is likely to be the last place anyone would go to find a laugh but on one February afternoon I found exactly that in the Winship Cancer Institute at Emory University. It was when my mother had returned from the gift shop with a button on her sweater that read simply “Cancer Sucks” that I could not help but laugh. Profound understatements always have the potential for humor and there is undoubtedly no greater understatement than “Cancer Sucks.” I know this because for over two years I was entrusted with the responsibility of caring for my mother who suffered from this merciless disease. The effect of this experience imbued me with both a strong work ethic and a sense of responsibility to both my family and community.
The most trying aspect of taking care of my mother was likely the frequent trips to hospital for chemotherapy treatment. Having to watch my mother sleep while poisoned poured slowly into her veins contrasted sharply in my mind to the often-heard saying that one does ‘battle’ with cancer. Nothing could be further from the truth. Any ‘fight’ with cancer amounts to little more than passive torture. Through all of the pains of her illness my mother remained adamant throughout that her main concern was still seeing me do well in school. It had always been her wish to one day see me argue a case in court. My mother loved the law and as a lobbyist she had drastically changed the state of legislation affected battered women and children in the state of Georgia. It was because of her that I decided to first become a political science major and second to add a sociology double major to better understand patriarchal social structures and their effects on violence against women.
The beginning of the end started on February 21st, 2010 when my mother was diagnosed with a brain tumor. I know that it was pure happenstance that my mother was diagnosed on my birthday but that does little to blunt the anger that I experienced at what felt like a capricious act of cruelty on the part of the universe. I say the universe because I have never found the notion of a higher power to be a very convincing one. Consequently it concerned me how I would cope with the eventual loss of my mother without the crutch of spirituality. If there is an afterlife then it does not matter if you lose someone because it will only be a matter of a relatively few years before you see them again. When my mother did die it was unsurprisingly devastating but in that devastation I found motivation. I found a drive to take up my mother’s mantle for women and children especially as it pertains to violent crimes perpetrated towards women and children.