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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1474569-A-wheelchair-in-a-nursing-home
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by deeps Author IconMail Icon
Rated: E · Short Story · Contest Entry · #1474569
I have written this story for "Point of View" contest
Hi my name is Wicky and I am a social worker. Today I like to share some part of my life with you all.

When I was born, I looked different from my brothers and sisters. I had some problem; I didn't have legs, instead I had two big wheels attached to my body.
My brothers who each had four legs were very well built as compare to me. They use to make fun of me, tease me. I felt very bad and dejected.

Then one day, I was shifted with few of my brothers to a new place. The new place was full of chaos and different smells. People there never seem happy. The whole atmosphere really troubled me.

I thought GOD was too harsh on me. First he made me so weak, so helpless and now he has dumped me into an unknown, stinky place.

Later I came to know that this place is called a Hospital, where people are treated for their illnesses.

Then one night while I was sleeping, a nurse dragged me out of my room, I was surprise and stunned. She dragged me to the entrance of the hospital. In front of me I saw few people carrying an old lady. She could hardly walk; they made her sit on my lap. Though she was in lot of pain, she felt relaxed sitting on my lap, and gave a sigh of relief.
Then slowly the nurse started pushing me to a room where they shifted the old lady to the bed.

From that day, I was used many times to carry the old lady from one room to another, some times to the x-ray room, some times to the garden.

I was really surprised that it was so easy for me to carry the old lady wherever she wanted to go.

Everyone use to call the old lady by the name “Grandma”. She treated me very nicely in those two weeks of her stay in hospital. Regularly her grandchildren use to visit her, and often they use to play with me, sit on me, and drag me. That was fun.

After two weeks Grandma left the hospital, I went to the entrance of hospital to wave her good bye. When she left me I felt really bad, I felt she still needed me.
But I couldn't go with her. I still feel her soft and warm touch on my hands, when she left me.

From that day I knew that my job was to carry the weak and ill people from one place to another in the hospital. The feeling to support others, to help others was really wonderful, I felt so strong, so happy. God had given me a special ability that my muscular brother’s didn’t have.

From that day I never felt alone or depressed, I always had some or other patients (As they call the ill people) to accompany me.
Many times my work gets really hectic, people make me work roughly and the working hours are really long, but its okay, after all I have devoted my life to help the helpless and sick people.

And that’s why I call my self Social worker.

Word Count: 528
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