Pain is one of the hardest things in life. It is human nature to avoid pain
at all costs. However, physical and emotional pain is inevitable. Most of you
know I have been in pain for the entire month. I've been to the emergency room
twice. That was fun. I've been using Facebook to keep people up to date. In the
end, it was an ovarian cyst. I am happy to say that I am 100% myself again. It
was rough to say the least but I am thankful to be able to say the month ended
on a high note.
Last year I wrote about Julie, one of my dear friends that survived a double
lung transplant. On October 24th, we celebrated her one year anniversary of her
life saving procedure by coming together and saying the rosary. I asked Julie
if I could say a few words that night. I needed to speak to get closure.
How did I get here? How did we all get here? Here we are
saying the rosary on the anniversary of what really is a miracle? I will go
back to when I first met Julie.
I first met Julie in my residence hall when I was a senior
in college. I could see we both had medical issues. I simply said, “If you need
help, just knock on my door”. Not twenty four hours later, she did need help.
She was homesick, having trouble finding her niche, and having typical freshmen
problems. I was more than happy to help this beautiful young lady. We were
becoming closer and closer. She quickly became one of my best friends. We would
talk a lot. One fateful day she said, “I cannot hang out with you because I am
going to a wedding”. I never thought I would get chills all over talking about
that ominous conversation. I get chills because that conversation was our last
conversation in the dorm.
The next form of contact I had with Julie was through text
message. She texted, “I’m in the hospital”. I thought to myself, “What do you
mean you’re in the hospital”? This was crazy. She was fine three days ago.
Remember, I met Julie when she was on oxygen. I thought that was normal. I was
wrong; dead wrong. I was raised to follow the golden rule. So, I visited Julie
at Lutheran General. When I think back, that was me saying, I am never leaving
your side.
Now, the storm just got worse. Julie spiraled down and I was
not allowed to see my best friend because she was in the intensive care unit. I
do not get scared easily, but that shook me to my core. It is not easy to give
someone your heart and have it teeter-totter between heaven and earth. I
remember posting a comment on her brother’s Facebook wall, what is wrong with
Julie? His reply: she needs new lungs. My body turned into an ice cube. I could
not even think of the severity, my mind refused to go there. I prayed, we all
prayed, I asked God to save my best friend. We prayed for our daughter, our sister,
our niece, our neighbor, our sorority sister, we all asked God for Julie.
We got her back a year ago today. Julie’s family was kind
enough to let me visit her when she moved out of intensive care. They understood
that I was not taking “no” for an answer. When I was walking down the hall at
Loyola, I didn’t know what to expect. Low and behold, I saw Julie in her bright
pink robe. “Hey gorgeous” I said. I was comfortable around the hospital equipment;
I have been around that type of environment all my life because of therapy. I
couldn’t help but notice that Julie’s family did not mind my company. I think
they sensed how much I adored their Julie. I began to get to know each of them
on a personal level and they certainly did not mind my disability.
I was beginning to realize that although it was a terrible
situation, God was there. God gave me the strength to reach out to her and say,
I’m here if you need me. God gave me the strength to get through those weeks
when I couldn’t see her. God gave me the strength to see her after the surgery.
God gave us the strength to see Julie through this.
Before I end, I want to explain why I chose to speak
tonight. The truth is each and every one of you has a story. We all remember
the desperation we experienced, the fear we had, and the joy of Julie getting
new lungs. Each of you has a Julie story. That is what we highlight tonight.
This chapter of Julie’s life is over and hopefully never to be opened again. I
always identified as the friend who came as things got really bad. For her
sake, I need to just be Hannah, her friend. It took a few conversations for me
to realize that I have to have a new identity with her. I am here to cheer my
best friend on during her college years. That is all. So, after tonight I
promise Julie, I will just be your friend. However, I will end this with a
story.
Julie finally came to visit campus in May. I had visited her many times at her house
since she returned from the hospital. But, there was something holy about
seeing her on campus. As we hugged, I looked up to heaven; I mouthed the word
thank you. Now, I want to say it loud and proud. Thank you God, for my best
friend.
Pain is inevitable. We can’t hide from it, can’t pretend it
does not exist, nor ignore the potential of pain throughout life. We may scream and cry because of it but the
pain will go away or lessen with time.
I really needed support this month. I received an enormous
amount of support from you all. I am guessing but I think it is safe to say 50
people or more commented on my Facebook statuses. An easy 150 people must have “Liked”
my statuses. Your good thoughts and abundant prayers were so incredibly
helpful. When I was in pain, I would read what YOU wrote and it would
immediately lift my spirits. It was literally overwhelming at times. For example,
friends sent cards, a Sunday school class at my church sent about a dozen cards
to me, so many e-mails, and it was truly amazing. So, from the bottom of my
heart…thank you.
Also, my parents were so loving. The hospital tests are
brutal when you have involuntary movements and they helped the doctors
understand what would make it easier. Mom stayed with me overnight in the
hospital, that was a rough night and we made it bearable. Dad got me through some
awful moments during tests when if it was during his shifts. My parents are
smart enough to take 3-4 hour shifts with me if I am at the ER to avoid
complete exhaustion.
Thank you for the abundant love this month.
Humbly Yours,
Hannah!