A Writing Prompt, A Fall and A Wife's Fright

A number of years ago, a writer friend offered a wonderful writing prompt at one of the conferences I attended. She asked the first part of a question, then added different endings. We could choose any or all to write about an experience. Hopefully, this first draft would be the initial writing that would become a personal essay. 

I was truly surprised at the lengthy drafts that I came up with when I answered one of her questions. What were the questions? 

The beginning of each question is: What is the travel or life experience in which you...

The list of the final part of the question is below:

What is the travel or life experience in which you...

• ...were the most frightened?
• ...were the most frustrated?
• ...experienced an outcome that surprised you?
• ...felt the most exhilarated from afterward?
• ...waited the longest to achieve/experience?
• ...learned the most from?
• ...didn't really want to do, but were glad you did afterwards?

Try any, or all, of the questions and see what happens. Do it in any form you like, but putting in sensory details and dialogue could enhance it. Play with words a bit. Add what you learned if you want it to be a true personal essay. Or some universal truth that the experience brought to you. 

I'll give you an example of one I did several years ago. I didn't have to ponder on the question very long as I knew immediately the time in my life when I was the most frightened. Read mine, then try one of the questions (or more) on your own. Keep in mind that this is the first draft, no paragraphs and much to be edited later.

What is the travel or life experience in which you were the most frightened?

I believe the most frightening experience I've ever had happened only a few weeks ago. When Ken fell and hit his head while out walking on a snowy street, he came in acting confused, upset and totally unlike himself. He is a confident man with an outstanding mind, and to see him so different frightened me to the point that I felt weak, knees like jelly. "I don't know what day it is," he said. He looked at me like a lost puppy dog. The unspoken message was there. "Help me!" So, what did I do? I asked him who the president was, tried to make light of it. He hesitated for a long time, then gave me the wrong answer. That's when the fear knotting inside me tightened until I thought I might cry. Instead, I suggested we go to the emergency room. Normally, he would have waved me off, said he'd be fine. Not this time. "OK," he said. He began to pace the house from one room to another, asking strange questions about whatever he saw. I grabbed jackets for both of us and led him to the car. I glanced at him once as I drove the three minutes to the hospital, and he appeared near tears. The knot in my stomach reached boulder size. Three hours and a CAT scan later, bloodwork and two doctors later, it was determined he had a concussion, needed to spend the night for observation. It was raining outside and temperature dropping so I went home, then brought some things back for him and made sure he was calm and settled in before heading home in the worsening weather. The fear I'd had earlier intensified as I reflected on the doctor's words. "We need to do some more bloodwork. It's possible he had a stroke and that is what caused his fall." I spent a near-sleepless night as a stroke had never entered my mind. It was a snowy morning and he slipped. Why did the doctor plant that rotten little seed? Our family doctor, who had been away the day of Ken's accident, called me at 7:20 a.m. the next day to say it was a simple concussion and no sign whatsoever of a stroke. He'd been seen by a neurologist and cleared to go home. I brought home the man I knew and loved, no longer confused and afraid. The knot in my stomach fell apart. This entire experience frightened me more than when Ken had a heart attack, more than when we learned he had prostate cancer. I had never felt as close to losing him as when his mind was affected.