Charles Lindbergh Essay -- essays papers

Charles Lindbergh One of the greatest heroes the world has ever known Charles Augustus Lindbergh. He is most famous for his transatlantic flight from New York to Paris. Lindbergh acquired great fame for doing â€Å"good will† tours in Latin America. Other than politicians and war heroes no one has yet quite matched his fame. He was a genus when it came to aviation and mechanics. He advised the making and design of several planes from ones made of wood and wire to supersonic jets. He helped several countries and airlines by giving them advise on their air fleets. He wrote several documents of his journeys and of his life. Charles Lindbergh entered this world on February 4, 1902 in Detroit, Michigan. He grew up in Rapid Falls, Minnesota on a family farm. His father’s name was Charles Augustus Lindbergh, Sr. He was a lawyer and a congressman for the state of Minnesota between the years of 1907 and 1917. His mother’s name was Evangeling Land Lodge. As a child Lindbergh showed that he had a great deal of mechanical ability. When he was eighteen years old he began attending the University of Wisconsin. While at Wisconsin he majored in mechanical engineering. During his time at the university he paid more attention to the growing field of avaion than he did to his studies. In 1924 Charles Lindbergh enlisted in the United States Army so he could begin studying on how to be a fighter pilot. One year later he graduated from the Army flight training school that was held on both Brook’s field and Kelly’s field. He graduated as the number one pilot in his class. After that he bought his own airplane and for the next six years of his life he spent flying an airplane for Robertson Aircraft Corporation. The planes filled with mail he flew from St. Louis, Missouri to Chicago, Illinois. During this time he was also a barnstormer which is a stunt pilot that does stunts over fairs and other public gatherings. During this time he received a reputation of not only being a cautions pilot but a quite capable pilot as well. A New York City hotel owner named Raymond Orteig started the Orteig Prize. The Orteig Prize was a twenty five thousand dollars for the first man to fly across the Atlantic Ocean solo and without stopping in between. Many pilots were injured or even killed trying to win the Orteig Prize. Raymond Orteig started the competition in 1919 and Charles Lindbergh had b... ...aui, Hawaii. He is buried in a small church graveyard in Kipahulu, Hawaii. After his death a collection of his writings were published in 1978 and the book was entitled â€Å"Autobiography of Values†. Charles Augustus Lindbergh was an explorer and pioneer in the field of aviation. His story showed great triumph of the human spirit. When Charles Lindbergh’s son had been kidnapped it shocked and fascinated the entire world. He was not only one of the finest pilots of his time but he was an excellent public speaker. In the 1920’s and 1930’s English teachers used his writings and even more often his wife’s writings in their English lessons. English and History teachers still use Charles Lindbergh’s and his wife’s works in their lessons. Even though Lindbergh was most famous for his transatlantic flight and winning the Orieg Prize he is also honored for his expertise in aviation and promoting â€Å"good will† throughout the Latin American countries. He is also given partial credit for such creations as the Boeing 747. Lindbergh was also a great combat pilot in World War II when fighting against the Japanese as a civilian. That is how Cha rles Lindbergh became one of the world’s greatest heroes.

The Necessity of Defined Boundaries in Nursing

What the Hippocratic Oath is to physicians, the Nightingale Pledge is to nurses. The very essence of this pledge needs to be maintained today as it was intended to be when it was first used on a graduating nursing class in 1893 Detroit (Wikipedia, 2007). Its importance is not to be understated – its meaning not to be devalued. For any nurse in a leadership position, it is necessary to engrain this pledge in one’s mind, rather than just repeat it for the sake of a certificate.With this engrained mentality, the managing nurse will possess the capacity to effectively implement this dogma into the minds and lives of young nurses. The Nightingale Pledge is symbolic of the more general concept of nursing boundary theory. The American Nurses Association (ANA), the American Medical Association (AMA), the state and national governments of the United States, every university with a nursing program, as well as every nurse and physician all have well-founded interests in defining b oundaries that represent ethical and safe behaviors concerning nurses (Holder, 2007).As the world, specifically the US, continues to rely more and more on healthcare provision, it is unavoidable that some loss of integrity concerning the quality of nurses in general will occur. Young nursing students are not always as true-hearted about the profession as was the lovely Miss Nightingale. They may be drawn to the profession for a well known variety of other reasons including handsome salaries and constant, versatile demand for services. This precisely why the senior nursing staff must actively attempt to preserve the integrity of each nurse and thereby the entire profession.The question then becomes how to do it; how to instill the solid and earnest concepts presented in the Nightingale Pledge into the minds and hearts of budding nurses. Education is the key (Wikipedia, 2007). As a leader, a managing nurse may initiate continuing educational services for the nursing staff. Programs th at reinforce the foundations of nursing can be offered in a variety of formats. There are no rules for creative presentation. Five minutes at every staff meeting could be dedicated to boundary discussions, for instance. Staff emails could be sent regularly presenting a boundary â€Å"tip of the day†.Colorful and inviting flyers could be posted on the walls of staff break areas if nothing else. The importance lies in the transference of the knowledge; in the sowing of the seeds of Nightingale. The managing nurse, and every nurse, should strive to uphold personal integrity levels as well as preserving the time-tested, well-earned respect for the world’s most caring profession: Nursing (Holder, 2007). As time goes on, nursing careers will progress in all areas and in all directions. A certain percentage of nurses will graduate for the wrong reasons; this is unavoidable.With the necessary components of preservation activated and consistently engaged, the managing nurse can serve as one vehicle for the transference of this philosophy of care giving. It can be shown to young nurses that the gifts that they give daily to their patients and humankind in general are by far more valuable than the profession’s more obvious perks. Nurses need to develop a sense of family with all other nurses in the world (Holder, 2007). There needs to be common bonds inherit in all nurses. They must have a sense of community.The continuation of efforts to uphold the high moral and ethical standards, such as those presented in the Nightingale Pledge, are integral to the future of nursing worldwide. Bibliography/References Holder, K. & Schenthal, Stephen. (2007, Feb 13). Watch Your Step: Nursing and Professional Boundries. Retrieved Feb 10, 2007, from Nursing Center: http://www. nursingcenter. com/library/JournalArticle. asp? Article_ID=696090 Wikipedia. (2007, Feb 13). Nightingale Pledge. Retrieved Feb 10, 2007, from Wikipedia: The Free Encyclopedia: http://en. wikipe dia. org/w/index. php? title=Special:Cite&page=Nightingale_Pledge&id=100440708

Bag of Bones CHAPTER FOUR

The phone was ringing when I walked in my front door. It was Frank asking me if I'd like to join him for Christmas. Join them, as matter of fact; all of his brothers and their families were coming. I opened my mouth to say no the last thing on earth I needed was a Irish Christmas with everybody drinking whiskey and waxing sentimental about Jo while perhaps two dozen snotcaked rugrats crawled around the floor and heard myself saying I'd come. Frank sounded as surprised as I felt, but honestly delighted. ‘Fantastic!' He cried. ‘When can you get here?' I was in the hall, my galoshes dripping on the tile, and from where I standing I could look through the arch and into the living room. There was no Christmas tree; I hadn't bothered with one since Jo died. The room looked both ghastly and much too big to me . . . a roller rink furnished in Early American. ‘I've been out running errands,' I said. ‘How about I throw some in a bag, get back into the car, and come south while the still blowing warm air?' ‘Tremendous,' Frank said without a moment's hesitation. ‘We can have us a sane bachelor evening before the Sons and Daughters of East Malden start arriving. I'm pouring you a drink as soon as I get off the telephone.' ‘Then I guess I better get rolling,' I said. That was hands down the best holiday since Johanna died. The only good holiday, I guess. For four days I was an honorary Arlen. I drank too much, toasted Johanna's memory too many times . . . and knew, somehow, that she'd be pleased to know I was doing it. Two babies spit up on me, one dog got into bed with me in the middle of the night, and Nicky Arlen's sister-in-law made a bleary pass at me on the night after Christmas, when she caught me alone in the kitchen making a turkey sandwich. I kissed her because she clearly wanted to be kissed, and an adventurous (or perhaps ‘mischievous' is the word I want) hand groped me for a moment in a place where no one other than myself had groped in almost three and a half years. It was a shock, but not an entirely unpleasant one. It went no further in a houseful of Arlens and with Susy Donahue not quite officially divorced yet (like me, she was an honorary Arlen that Christmas), it hardly could have done but I decided it was time to leave . . . unless, that was, I wanted to go driving at high speed down a narrow street that most likely ended in a brick wall. I left on the twenty-seventh, very glad that I had come, and I gave Frank a fierce goodbye hug as we stood by my car. For four days I hadn't thought at all about how there was now only dust in my safe-deposit box at Fidelity Union, and for four nights I had slept straight through until eight in the morning, sometimes waking up with a sour stomach and a hangover headache, but never once in the middle of the night with the thought Manderley, I have dreamt again of Manderley going through my mind. I got back to Derry feeling refreshed and renewed. The first day of 1998 dawned clear and cold and still and beautiful. I got up, showered, then stood at the bedroom window, drinking coffee. It suddenly occurred to me with all the simple, powerful reality of ideas like up is over your head and down is under your feet that I could write now. It was a new year, something had changed, and I could write now if I wanted to. The rock had rolled away. I went into the study, sat down at the computer, and turned it on. My heart was beating normally, there was no sweat on my forehead or the back of my neck, and my hands were warm. I pulled down the main menu, the one you get when you click on the apple, and there was my Word Six. I clicked on it. The pen-and-parchment logo came up, and when it did I suddenly couldn't breathe. It was as if iron bands had clamped around my chest. I pushed back from the desk, gagging and clawing at the round neck of the sweatshirt I was wearing. The wheels of my office chair caught on little throw rug one of Jo's finds in the last year of her life and I tipped right over backward. My head banged the floor and I saw a fountain of bright sparks go whizzing across my field of vision. I suppose I was lucky to black out, but I think my real luck on New Year's Morning of 1998 was that I tipped over the way I did. If I'd only pushed back from the desk so that I was still looking at the logo and at the hideo us blank screen followed it I think I might have choked to death. ‘When I staggered to my feet, I was at least able to breathe. My throat the size of a straw, and each inhale made a weird screaming sound, but I was breathing. I lurched into the bathroom and threw up in the basin with such force that vomit splashed the mirror. I grayed out and my knees buckled. This time it was my brow I struck, thunking it against the lip of the basin, and although the back of my head didn't bleed there was a very respectable lump there by noon, though), my forehead did, a little. This latter bump also left a purple mark, which I of course lied about, telling folks who asked that I'd run into the bathroom door in the middle of the night, silly me, that'll teach a fella to get up at two A.M. without turning on a lamp. ,'When I regained complete consciousness (if there is such a state), I was curled up on the floor. I got up, disinfected the cut on my forehead, and sat on the lip of the tub with my head lowered to my knees until I felt confident enough to stand up. I sat there for fifteen minutes, I guess, and in that space of time I decided that barring some miracle, my career was over. Harold would scream in pain and Debra would moan in disbelief, but what could they do? Send out the Publication Police? me with the Book-of-the-Month-Club Gestapo? Even if they could, what difference would it make? You couldn't get sap out of a brick or blood out of a stone. Barring some miraculous recovery, my life as a writer was over. And if it is? I asked myself. What's on for the back forty, Mike? You can play a lot of Scrabble in forty years, go on a lot of Crossword Cruises, drink a lot of whiskey. But is that enough? What else are you going to put on your back forty? I didn't want to think about that, not then. The next forty years could take care of themselves; I would be happy just to get through New Year's Day of 1998. When I felt I had myself under control, I went back into my study, shuffled to the computer with my eyes resolutely on my feet, felt around for the right button, and turned off the machine. You can damage the program shutting down like that without putting it away, but under the circumstances, I hardly thought it mattered. That night I once again dreamed I was walking at twilight on Lane Forty-two, which leads to Sara Laughs; once more I wished on the evening star as the loons cried on the lake, and once more I sensed something in the woods behind me, edging ever closer. It seemed my Christmas holiday was over. That was a hard, cold winter, lots of snow and in February a flu epidemic that did for an awful lot of Derry's old folks. It took them the way a hard wind will take old trees after an ice storm. It missed me completely. I hadn't so much as a case of the sniffles that winter. In March, I flew to Providence and took part in Will Weng's New England Crossword Challenge. I placed fourth and won fifty bucks. I framed the uncashed check and hung it in the living room. Once upon a time, most of my framed Certificates of Triumph (Jo's phrase; all the good phrases are Jo's phrases, it seems to me) went up on my office walls, but by March of 1998, I wasn't going in there very much. When I wanted to play Scrabble against the computer or do a tourney-level crossword puzzle, I used the Powerbook and sat at the kitchen table. I remember sitting there one day, opening the Powerbook's main menu, going down to the crossword puzzles, then dropping the cursor two or three items further, until it had highlighted my old pal, Word Six. What swept over me then wasn't frustration or impotent, balked fury (I'd experienced a lot of both since finishing All the Way from the Top), but sadness and simple longing. Looking at the Word Six icon was suddenly like looking at the pictures of Jo I kept in my wallet. Studying those, I'd sometimes think that I would sell my immortal soul in order have her back again . . . and on that day in March, I thought I would sell my soul to be able to write a story again. Go on and try it, then, a voice whispered. Maybe things have changed. Except that nothing had changed, and I knew it. So instead of opening Word Six, I moved it across to the trash barrel in the lower righthand corner of the screen, and dropped it in. Goodbye, old pal. Weinstock called a lot that winter, mostly with good news. Early in March she reported that Helen's Promise had been picked as one half of the Literary Guild's main selection for August, the other half a legal thriller by Steve Martini, another veteran of the eight-to-fifteen segment of the Times bestseller list. And my British publisher, Debra, loved Helen, was sure it would be my ‘breakthrough book.' (My British sales had always lagged.) ‘Promise is sort of a new direction for you,' Debra said. ‘Wouldn't you say?' ‘I kind of thought it was,' I confessed, and wondered how Debbie respond if I told her my new-direction book had been written a dozen years ago. ‘It's got . . . I don't know . . . a kind of maturity.' ‘Thanks.' ‘Mike? I think the connection's going. You sound muffled.' Sure I did. I was biting down on the side of my hand to keep from howling with laughter. Now, cautiously, I took it out of my mouth and examined the bite-marks. ‘Better?' ‘Yes, lots. So what's the new one about? Give me a hint.' ‘You know the answer to that one, kiddo.' Debra laughed. †You'll have to read the book to find out, Josephine,† she said. ‘Right?' ‘Yessum.' ‘Well, keep it coming. Your pals at Putnam are crazy about the way you're taking it to the next level.' I said goodbye, I hung up the telephone, and then I laughed wildly for about ten minutes. Laughed until I was crying. That's me, though. Always taking it to the next level. During this period I also agreed to do a phone interview with a Newsweek writer who was putting together a piece on The New American Gothic (whatever that was, other than a phrase which might sell a few magazines), and to sit for a Publishers Weekly interview which would appear just before publication of Helen's Promise. I agreed to these because they both sounded softball, the sort of interviews you could do over the phone while you read your mail. And Debra was delighted because I ordinarily say no to all the publicity. I hate that part of the job and always have, especially the hell of the live TV chat-show, where nobody's ever read your goddam book and the first question is always ‘Where in the world do you get those wacky ideas?' The publicity process is like going to a sushi bar where you're the sushi, and it was great to get past it this time with the feeling that I'd been able to give Debra some good news she could take to her bosses. ‘Yes,' she could say, ‘ he's still being a booger about publicity, but I got him to do a couple of things.' All through this my dreams of Sara Laughs were going on not every night but every second or third night, with me never thinking of them in the daytime. I did my crosswords, I bought myself an acoustic steel guitar and started learning how to play it (I was never going to be invited to tour with Patty Loveless or Alan Jackson, however), I scanned each day's bloated obituaries in the Derry News for names that I knew. I was pretty much dozing on my feet, in other words. What brought all this to an end was a call from Harold Oblowski not more than three days after Debra's book-club call. It was storming out-side a vicious snow-changing-over-to-sleet event that proved to be the last and biggest blast of the winter. By mid-evening the power would be off all over Derry, but when Harold called at five P.M., things were just getting cranked up. ‘I just had a very good conversation with your editor,' Harold said. ‘A very enlightening, very energizing conversation. Just got off the in fact.' ‘Oh?' ‘Oh indeed. There's a feeling at Putnam, Michael, that this latest of yours may have a positive effect on your sales position in the market. It's very strong.' ‘Yes,' I said, ‘I'm taking it to the next level.' ‘Huh?' ‘I'm just blabbing, Harold. Go on.' ‘Well . . . Helen Nearing's a great lead character, and Skate is your best villain ever.' I said nothing. ‘Debra raised the possibility of making Helen's Promise the opener of a three-book contract. A very lucrative three-book contract. All without prompting from me. Three is one more than any publisher has wanted to commit to 'til now. I mentioned nine million dollars, three per book, in other words, expecting her to laugh . . . but an agent has to start somewhere, and I always choose the highest ground I can find. I think I must have Roman military officers somewhere back in my family tree.' Ethiopian rug-merchants, more like it, I thought, but didn't say. I felt the way you do when the dentist has gone a little heavy on the Novocain and flooded your lips and tongue as well as your bad tooth and the patch of gum surrounding it. If I tried to talk, I'd probably only flap and spread spit. Harold was almost purring. A three-book contract for the new mature Michael Noonan. Tall tickets, baby. This time I didn't feel like laughing. This time I felt like screaming. Harold went on, happy and oblivious. Harold didn't know the bookberry-tree had died. Harold didn't know the new Mike Noonan had cataclysmic shortness of breath and projectile-vomiting fits every time he tried to write. ‘You want to hear how she came back to me, Michael?' ‘Lay it on me.' ‘Well, nine's obviously high, but it's as good a place to start as any. We feel this new book is a big step forward for him.' This is extraordinary. Extraordinary. Now, I haven't given anything away, wanted to talk to you first, of course, but I think we're looking at seven-point-five, minimum. In fact ‘ ‘No.' He paused a moment. Long enough for me to realize I was gripping the phone so hard it hurt my hand. I had to make a conscious effort to relax my grip. ‘Mike, if you'll just hear me out ‘ ‘I don't need to hear you out. I don't want to talk about a new contract.' ‘Pardon me for disagreeing, but there'll never be a better time. Think about it, for Christ's sake. We're talking top dollar here. If you wait until after Helen's Promise is published, I can't guarantee that the same offer ‘ ‘I know you can't,' I said. ‘I don't want guarantees, I don't want offers, I don't want to talk contract.' ‘You don't need to shout, Mike, I can hear you.' Had I been shouting? Yes, I suppose I had been. ‘Are you dissatisfied with Putnam's? I think Debra would be very distressed to hear that. I also think Phyllis Grann would do damned near anything to address any concerns you might have.' Are you sleeping with Debra, Harold? I thought, and all at once it seemed like the most logical idea in the world that dumpy, fiftyish, balding little Harold Oblowski was making it with my blonde, aristocratic, Smith-educated editor. Are you sleeping with her, do you talk about my future while you're lying in bed together in a room at the Plaza? Are the pair of you trying to figure how many golden eggs you can get out of this tired old goose before you finally wring its neck and turn it into pat? ¦? Is that what you're up to? ‘Harold, I can't talk about this now, and I won't talk about this now.' ‘What's wrong? Why are you so upset? I thought you'd be pleased. Hell, I thought you'd be over the fucking moon.' ‘There's nothing wrong. It's just a bad time for me to talk long-term contract. You'll have to pardon me, Harold. I have something coming out of the oven.' ‘Can we at least discuss this next w ‘ ‘No,' I said, and hung up. I think it was the first time in my adult life I'd hung up on someone who wasn't a telephone salesman. I had nothing coming out of the oven, of course, and I was too upset to think about putting something in. I went into the living room instead, poured myself a short whiskey, and sat down in front of the TV I sat there for almost four hours, looking at everything and seeing nothing. Outside, the storm continued cranking up. Tomorrow there would be trees down all over Derry and the world would look like an ice sculpture. At quarter past nine the power went out, came back on for thirty seconds or so, then went out and stayed out. I took this as a suggestion to stop thinking about Harold's useless contract and how Jo would have chortled the idea of nine million dollars. I got up, unplugged the blacked-out TV so it wouldn't come blaring on at two in the morning (I needn't have worried; the power was off in Derry for nearly two days), and went upstairs. I dropped my clothes at the foot of the bed, crawled in without even bothering to brush my teeth, and was asleep in less than five minutes. I don't how long after that it was that the nightmare came. It was the last dream I had in what I now think of as my ‘Manderley series,' the culminating dream. It was made even worse, I suppose, by unrelievable blackness to which I awoke. It started like the others. I'm walking up the lane, listening to the crickets and the loons, looking mostly at the darkening slot of sky overhead. I reach the driveway, and here something has changed; someone has put a little sticker on the SARA LAUGHS sign. I lean closer and see it's a radio station sticker. WBLM, it says. 102.9, PORTLAND'S ROCK AND ROLL BLIMP. From the sticker I look back up into the sky, and there is Venus. I wish her as I always do, I wish for Johanna with the dank and vaguely smell of the lake in my nose. Something lumbers in the woods, rattling old leaves and breaking a branch. It sounds big. Better get down there, a voice in my head tells me. Something has taken out a contract on you, Michael. A three-book contract, and that's the worst kind. I can never move, I can only stand here. I've got walker's block. But that's just talk. I can walk. This time I can walk. I am delighted. I have had a major breakthrough. In the dream I think This changes everything! This changes everything! Down the driveway I walk, deeper and deeper into the clean but sour smell of pine, stepping over some of the fallen branches, kicking others out of the way. I raise my hand to brush the damp hair off my forehead and see the little scratch running across the back of it. I stop to look at it, curious. No time for that, the dream-voice says. Get down there. You've got a book to write. I can't write, I reply. That part's over. I'm on the back forty now. No, the voice says. There is something relentless about it that scares me. You had writer's walk, not writer's block, and as you can see, it's gone. Now hurry up and get down there. I'm afraid, I tell the voice. Afraid of what? Well . . . what if Mrs. Danvers is down there? The voice doesn't answer. It knows I'm not afraid of Rebecca de Winter's housekeeper, she's just a character in an old book, nothing but a bag of bones. So I begin walking again. I have no choice, it seems, but at every step my terror increases, and by the time I'm halfway down to the shadowy sprawling bulk of the log house, fear has sunk into my bones like fever. Something is wrong here, something is all twisted up. I'll run away, I think. I'll run back the way I came, like the gingerbread man I'll run, run all the way back to Derry, if that's what it takes, and I'll never come here anymore. Except I can hear slobbering breath behind me in the growing gloom, and padding footsteps. The thing in the woods is now the thing in the driveway. It's right behind me. If I turn around the sight of it will knock the sanity out of my head in a single roundhouse slap. Something with red eyes, something slumped and hungry. The house is my only hope of safety. I walk on. The crowding bushes clutch like hands. In the light of a rising moon (the moon has never risen before in this dream, but I have never stayed in it this long before), the rustling leaves look like sardonic faces. I see winking eyes and smiling mouths. Below me are the black windows of the house and I know that there will be no power when I get inside, the storm has knocked the power out, I will flick the lightswitch up and down, up and down, until something reaches out and takes my wrist and pulls me like a lover deeper into the dark. I am three quarters of the way down the driveway now. I can see the railroad-tie steps leading down to the lake, and I can see the float out there on the water, a black square in a track of moonlight. Bill Dean has put it out. I can also see an oblong something lying at the place where driveway ends at the stoop. There has never been such an object before. What can it be? Another two or three steps, and I know. It's a coffin, the one Frank Arlen dickered for . . . because, he said, the mortician was trying to stick it to me. It's Jo's coffin, and lying on its side with the top partway open, enough for me to see it's empty. I think I want to scream. I think I mean to turn around and run back up the driveway I will take my chances with the thing behind me. But before I can, the back door of Sara Laughs opens, and a terrible figure darting out into the growing darkness. It is human, this figure, and yet it's not. It is a crumpled white thing with baggy arms upraised. There is no face where its face should be, and yet it is shrieking in a glottal, loonlike voice. It must be Johanna. She was able to escape her coffin, her winding shroud. She is all tangled up in it. How hideously speedy this creature is! It doesn't drift as one imagines ghosts drifting, but races across the stoop toward the driveway. It has been waiting down here during all the dreams when I had been frozen, and now that I have finally been able to walk down, it means to have me. I'll scream when it wraps me in its silk arms, and I will scream when I smell its rotting, bug-raddled flesh and see its dark staring eyes through the fine weave of the cloth. I will scream as the sanity leaves my mind forever. I will scream . . . but there is no one out here to hear me. Only the loons will hear me. I have come again to Manderley, and this time I will never leave. The shrieking white thing reached for me and I woke up on the floor of crying out in a cracked, horrified voice and slamming my head repeatedly against something. How long before I finally realized I was no longer asleep, that I wasn't at Sara Laughs? How long before I realized that I had fallen out of bed at some point and had crawled across the room in my sleep, that I was on my hands and knees in a corner, butting my head against the place where the walls came together, doing it over and over again like a lunatic in an asylum? I didn't know, couldn't with the power out and the bedside clock dead. I know that at first I couldn't move out of the corner because it felt safer than the wider room would have done, and I know that for a long time the dream's force held me even after I woke up (mostly, I imagine, because I couldn't turn on a light and dispel its power). I was afraid that if I crawled out of my corner, the white thing would burst out of my bathroom, shrieking its dead shriek, eager to finish what it had started. I know I was shivering all over, and that I was cold and wet from the waist down, because my bladder had let go. I stayed there in the corner, gasping and wet, staring into the darkness, wondering if you could have a nightmare powerful enough in its imagery to drive you insane. I thought then (and think now) that I almost found out on that night in March. Finally I felt able to leave the corner. Halfway across the floor I pulled off my wet pajama pants, and when I did that, I got disoriented. What followed was a miserable and surreal five minutes in which I crawled aimlessly back and forth in my familiar bedroom, bumping into stuff and moaning each time I hit something with a blind, flailing hand. Each thing I touched at first seemed like that awful white thing. Nothing I touched felt like anything I knew. With the reassuring green numerals of the bedside clock gone and my sense of direction temporarily lost, I could have been crawling around a mosque in Addis Ababa. At last I ran shoulder-first into the bed. I stood up, yanked the pillowcase off the extra pillow, and wiped my groin and upper legs with it. Then I crawled back into bed, pulled the blankets up, and lay there shivering, listening to the steady tick of sleet on the windows. There was no sleep for me the rest of that night, and the dream didn't fade as dreams usually do upon waking. I lay on my side, the shivers slowly subsiding, thinking of her coffin there in the driveway, thinking that it made a kind of mad sense Jo had loved Sara, and if she were haunt anyplace, it would be there. But why would she want to hurt me? Why would my Jo ever want to hurt me? I could think of no reason. Somehow the time passed, and there came a moment when I realized the air had turned a dark shade of gray; the shapes of the furniture in it like sentinels in fog. That was a little better. That was more it. I would light the kitchen woodstove, I decided, and make strong coffee. Begin the work of getting this behind me. I swung my legs out of bed and raised my hand to brush my sweat-hair off my forehead. I froze with the hand in front of my eyes. I must have scraped it while I was crawling, disoriented, in the dark and to find my way back to bed. There was a shallow, clotted cut across the back, just below the knuckles.

Outline of the Final Lab Report Essay

*This template will provide you with the details necessary to begin a quality Final Lab Report. Utilize this template to complete the Week 3 Outline of the Final Lab Report and ensure that you are providing all of the necessary information and proper format for the assignment. Before you begin, please note the following important information: 1. Carefully review the Final Lab Report instructions before you begin this assignment 2. The Final Lab Report should cover all 3 experiments from your Week Two Lab 3. As you plan your final paper, think about how you can combine these laboratories to tell a fact-based story about water quality. For example, consider how your experiments can be linked to issues at water treatment plants or the amount of bottled water people purchase. 4. For further help see the Sample Final Lab Report for an example of a final product on a different topic. 5. You may simply replace the text following the bold terms with the appropriate outline information to complete this assignment. Make sure to pay close attention to the information called for and provide all necessary material. Title Introduction Body Paragraph #1 – Background: All flourishing, healthy and thriving communities all have one thing in common and that is clean water, free of harmful contaminants because our bodies depend on clean, pure water to survive. As maintained in Mishra, S., & Nandeshwar, S. (2013), â€Å"Water is crucial for the well-being of people. Due to industrialization, growing  population , illiteracy the provision of safe drinking water will undergo global indust in near future†(pg. 599, para 5). In view of the fact that many diseases and viruses can be transmitted though water, dirty/contaminated water is extremely hazardous and it negatively impacts our health and the health of all living things. Water quality is influenced naturally with climate changes for instance, and by our actions. Unfortunately we don’t clearly see the immense damages that our negligent behavior is causing. In turn it leads us to falsely assume that water must be resistant to pollution damage and th at we have an everlasting supply of clean, drinkable water at our disposal. This is why we should all try to create awareness on water contamination, educate ourselves and others in our community to recognize and accept the fact that water contamination threatens our health, our lives and consequently our existence. Water quality research is very important to our society because it gives us insight on contamination issues, brings up awareness and allows us to learn preventative measures. As stated in Broderick, K. (2008), â€Å"The importance of process and participation for adaptive management suggests that success can be judged in terms of learning outcomes† (pg. 303, para 1). Our drinking water can be contaminated and we might not even realize it, because of all the contaminants that are transported through water regular evaluation of septic systems should be required in all towns/counties around the country. As stated in Gunnarsdottir, M. J., Gardarsson, S. M., & Andradottir, H. O. (2013), â€Å"Drinking water contamination, leading to waterborne diseases, is a recurrent event worldwide. A recent study established that more than one out of every three water borne outbreaks in affluent nations was caused by sewage contamination in ground water† (pg. 1114, para 2-3). In this study, drinking water was tested and indeed it did show signs of contamination testing positive for norovirus. Therefore demanding periodic septic systems evaluations in every town should be mandated. Body Paragraph # 2 – Objective: How do we know if our drinking water is in fact contaminated? What can we do to prevent our water from harming our family members? These are just a couple of concerns and questions that you may ask yourself. The purpose is to inform society of the importance of having a supply of clean, free of contaminants running water in their community. Additionally, to be able to recognize the significance of raising awareness on water, for  instance to be aware of what helps maintain or improve the quality of water and what environmental and human behaviors puts the quality of our water at risk for contamination. In view of the fact that we depend on water for survival, water pollution is an environmental issue that shouldn’t be looked over. Body Paragraph # 3 – Hypotheses: Hypotheses Experiment #1: Oil hypothesis = the water would probably change consistency, probably thicken up and change color Vinegar hypothesis = the water would probably stay the same color if the vinegar is white but there will be a change in smell Laundry detergent hypothesis = the water will change in consistency and would probably have suds/bubbles, smell and color (if detergent is colored) would also be altered. Hypotheses Experiment #2: When I tried to filtrate the water to remove the contaminants, I am not completely successful because the water is not 100% contaminant free since the water has a rancid smell. Hypotheses Experiment #3: If bottled water is supposed to be free of contaminants, then bottled water should contain significantly less contaminants than tap water because that is why bottled water is sold to the public. Materials and Methods Body Paragraph # 1: Experiment #1: Effects of Groundwater Contamination In order to know if soil is capable of actually removing contaminants from our drinking water I used three ordinary items that one way or another end up dissolving and polluting our water supply they are oil, vinegar and laundry detergent. Aside from using the three pollutants I used a permanent marker for labeling, soil, a funnel, cheesecloths and of course water. First I labeled a total of eight beakers and divided them into two groups of four. I filled four beakers (#1-4) with 100 ml of water then I added to beakers #2-4 with 10 ml, oil, vinegar and detergent, after mixing what I incorporated into the water I watched to see if any physical changes  occurred and smelled the solution. I noted what I observed for each beaker and proceeded with the experiment. Next I lined the funnel with cheesecloth and placed 60 ml of soil in it. I took beaker #5 and poured the contents of beaker #1 into the cheesecloth lined and soil covered funnel and I let it stand for about one minute and obse rved what happened to the water after it was filtered. I performed this same process for the rest of the beakers. Experiment #2: Water Treatment To determine if a filtering method is as effective as it is believe to be. The essential materials that I used in this experiment were potting soil, sand activated charcoal, gravel, alum, funnel, cheesecloth, bleach, and a stopwatch. First I made a solution of 100 ml soil and 200 ml water and this was labeled as the contaminated water of which 10 ml was set aside. I let the solution sit and lined a funnel with cheesecloth and poured some sand, activated charcoal, and gravel. Next I poured in some clean water for a number of four times and this is how I solidified the filter. I poured in some of the contaminated water into the filter after five minutes it was considered as filtered water and a couple of drops of bleach were added to the water as well. Now it was time to make a comparison between the water that I just manually filtered with the 10 ml of contaminated water I had set aside and noted the differences. Experiment #3: Drinking Water Quality In this experiment I tested the water quality of two different types of bottled water and water from the tap. I used Dasani and Fiji brands as my bottled water and water from the tap. Ammonia, chloride, 4 in 1 test strips, phosphate and iron test strips and most importantly a stopwatch. I used all of the test strips I was provided with in the different types of water and recorded my findings. Some of the strips I used tested for ammonia, chloride, phosphate and iron in both bottled and tap waters. Body Paragraph # 1: 0 mg/L ammonia and chloride were found in both bottled and tap water. In the 4 in 1 test strips tap water had a ph of 2, alkalinity 0,2 mg/L, chlorine 40 mg/L, hardness of 0 mg/L, phosphate 0 ppm and iron 0 ppm. Dasani bottled water had a ph level of 1, alkalinity, chlorine and hardness all measured 0 mg/L and phosphate and iron both measured 0 mg/L. Fiji bottled water had a ph of 8, alkalinity measured 10.0 mg/L, chlorine measured 40 mg/L, hardness 120 mg/L, phosphate measured 50 mg/L and iron 0 mg/L. Discussion Body Paragraph #1 – Hypotheses: The hypothesis in experiment #1 was confirmed because after all of my observations the water mixed with the contaminants did react the way I envisioned they would. Changes in smell, color and composition occurred when I mixed water with each of the three contaminants and even after filtration contamination was still present. Disposing of contaminants such as oil should be done so correctly. Hypothesis #2 was confirmed because I predicted correctly when I stated that the water was going to have traces of contamination even if it was filtered. However, I’m going to have to deny hypothesis #3, I was wrong when I thought that bottled water was more likely to be less contaminated then tap water. When bottled water Fiji showed to have more contaminants then tap water with a higher phosphate, ph, alkalinity, hardness and the same amount of chlorine as tap water I knew that my hypotheses was wrong. Body Paragraph # 2 – Context: The billion dollar bottled water industry suggests that bottled water is the best option however in my personal opinion and after performing experiment #3 I don’t think it’s worth it to buy bottled water. Considering that there isn’t much of a a difference between bottled water Dasani and tap water, plus bottled water Fiji even showed to have higher contaminants than tap water. For example, it had phosphate 50 ppm while tap water had 0 ppm. As stated in Potera, C. (2002), â€Å"Over half of Americans drink bottled water spending 240-10,000 times more per gallon for bottled water than they do for tap water, a trend largely fueled by the belief that bottled water is safer and healthier than tap water. Is the cost worth it? Controversial reports from the World Wide Fund for Natrure (WWF) in Gland, Switzerland, and the Natural Resources Defense Council (NRDC) in Washington, DC, say no† (pg. 76, para 1). Body Paragraph #3 – Variables and Future Experiments: In Experiment #1 Effects of Groundwater Contamination the possible factors that could have possibly affected my results would be the timing. For instance, if I had waited a little bit more instead of smelling and observing immediately when I mixed the water with the detergent, oil and vinegar could it have made a difference? I could control this by waiting the ideal time and carefully timing everything with a stopwatch. I can also test this by doing the experiment and waiting at different times, for instance I can wait one minute, three minutes and five minutes. With experiment #1 I was able to recognize that contaminants that seep into the water are capable of causing consequences that can possibly affect our health. In Experiment #2 Water Treatment, the outcome indicated that filtered water isn’t 100% free of contaminants. Perhaps if I extended the filtration process the contaminated water might have been clearer. Some possible factors that might’ve affected the final result would be how contaminated the tap water in my area is and the state of health that I was in. For instance, if I had a cold my sense of smell would not be as potent as they would be if I were cold-free. I could control this in the future by first investigating if my town’s tap water isn’t extremely contaminated. Also, if I was sick I could ask someone else to smell the solution to get more accurate results. In Experiment #3 we were able to determine that bottled water isn’t as safe and healthy as it is perceived to be. The possible factor that could’ve affected the accuracy of the results is the  timing, if I went over/under the time that was indicated to check the strip for the end result. I could control this by being attentive and careful and making use of the stopwatch that was provided. We know that contaminants are present in our water, so we consume it daily. Is it harmful or irrelevant? We can test this by giving groups of people the same water (tap water from their town) for a predetermined amount of time and then evaluate them. Does one group have more energy than the other? Is anyone experiencing any discomfort? dIf so, how could you control for these in the future? You should also propose some new questions that have arisen from your results and what kind of experiment might be proposed to answer these questions. Conclusions Body Paragraph #1: The key point of experiment #1 is that we should be more cautious with the way we discard our food and products because they can be contaminating our drinking water. In experiment #2 the key point is there is a big difference between contaminated and treated water, the filtration process is five steps long and even then contaminants may still be present. In experiment #3 the key point for me was that tap water isn’t as bad and unsafe as it is perceived to be, the bottled water franchise is definitely deceiving. The main message that I would like people to have from this report is that they can make a difference and that by simply changing one of their behaviors and making it more â€Å"greener†, this possibly can make a difference in their water quality. References Broderick, K. (2008). Adaptive Management for Water Quality Improvement in the Great Barrier Reef Catchments: Learning on the Edge. Geographical Research, 46(3), 303-313. doi:10.1111/j.1745-5871.2008.00525.x Gunnarsdottir, M. J., Gardarsson, S. M., & Andradottir, H. O. (2013). Microbial contamination in groundwater supply in a cold climate and coarse soil: case study of norovirus outbreak at Lake Mà ½vatn, Iceland. Hydrology Research, 44(6), 1114-1128. doi:10.2166/nh.2013.076 Mishra, S., & Nandeshwar, S. (2013). A study to assess water source sanitation, water quality and water related practices at household level in rural Madhya Pradesh. National Journal Of Community Medicine, 4(4), 599-602. Potera, C. (2002). The Price of Bottled Water. Environmental Health Perspectives, 110(2), A 76. SCI207.W2.LabReportingForm

Nursing research Essay Example | Topics and Well Written Essays - 250 words - 17

Nursing research - Essay Example In line with this, the process of change involved a number of principles as guided by Lewin’s principles of process of planned change. The principle of unfreezing as advocated by Lewin improved the chances of success. In this case, Lewin advocated for proper and efficient planning of the change process in a detailed manner that clarifies and identifies the problem while suggesting the change process (Keele 236). In this case, this principle helped the facility change the thoughts, attitudes, and behavior of the nurses regarding the old and conventional method of bedside handovers. In effect, the new process of change was set to be effective since all nurses were aware of the new method of bedside handover. In addition, the principle of unfreezing, which involves encouraging people on the need for process of change was instrumental in ensuring that the change process was successful (Keele 236). In this case, unfreezing involved building relationships with the nurses who were to implement the planned

Physics lab Essay Example | Topics and Well Written Essays - 750 words

Physics lab - Essay Example In fact, we create cars and vehicles with built-in breaks for us to be able to control their acceleration or speed and direction from time to time. We wear our seatbelts because of the danger associated with riding in a car vehicle in a speed. We also create objects with a design of making it easy for us to employ unbalanced force to transfer them from a place to another for instance and in order to break the law stating that they have the tendency to remain at rest once they do. The unbalanced force we might exert could be measured. A very important idea is the creation of meter for acceleration or speed in vehicles. Measuring the speed of an object in motion is important because in the case of automobiles this could at least ensure our safety on the road at a greater odds. On the other hand, â€Å"when a force is applied to an object, the change of motion in the object is proportional to the force applied to the object† (Grimshaw, 2007, p.74). This is Newton’s powerful second law of motion. In a simple understanding, we can easily state this law in a manner that we are conscious of the fact that heavier objects require more force to move them. At this point, it is very important to calculate the specific amount of force usually is needed to be employed in order to move an object to a certain direction or distance. Based on this concept, Newton therefore was able to calculate force as the product of the object’s mass and acceleration. This exactly applies and validates the stated given idea linked up with his second law of motion. Another learning from Newton’s concepts and ideas include the relationship existing between static friction and gravity. From the class discussion, I learned that provided an object is set undisturbed on a surface for instance, the only force that acts on it is a gravity. Static friction is therefore developed in this case because the object

THE ELECTRIC TOWN CAR COMPANY Essay Example | Topics and Well Written Essays - 1000 words

THE ELECTRIC TOWN CAR COMPANY - Essay Example The variable costs of the product amount to 2000 pounds. Based on these two figures the contribution margin of a sale of a car towards the fixed costs of the company is 3000 pounds. The total fixed costs of the company which includes overhead related to administration costs, marketing, research and development and other costs is 150 million pounds. The end result of the breakeven analysis illustrated in appendix A is the company must sell 50,000 car units per year for the revenues of the company to equal its expenses. The pricing point chosen by the company of 5000 pounds is between 4% and 16% lower than the competition. The ETC project requires a capital investment of 500 million pounds to be invested in buildings, machinery, office equipment, information technology system and other fixed assets. The investors interested in the project stipulated a minimum 15% return of investment (ROI). Appendix B provides a price sensitivity analysis that shows the annual demand of the ETC product depending on the price point of the car. The Electric Town Car Company had a requirement of a 15% return on investment. At the original price of 5000 pounds the company produces a profit of 54 million pounds, but the return on the original investment is 10.8%, which is below the 15% requirement. In order to achieve the desired ROI the company must lower its price from 5000 pounds to 4600 pounds. At the 4600 pound price with a unit output level of 85,000 units the company obtains a 16.92% return on investment. It is r ecommended that the company operate at the 90,000 units full capacity output selling its product at 4600 pounds. At this price and output the return of investment increases to 19.68%. All the figures depicted in this paragraph are illustrated in Appendix B. An initial requirement for the potential investors in the ETC project is to obtain a return on investment of 15%. This ROI based on an initial investment of requires the company to