Forgive my indulgence

As a patient, the hardest time can often be the treatment course or the healing process. I am not a psychologist, but my five major surgeries in the last seven years have given me a unique perspective. I've struggled with writing this for many days now, but am hopeful that sharing my experience generally will help Natalee & her family. Please know that I mean no disrespect to Natalee since her condition is very different and more serious than mine is and I am not attempting to speak for Natalee. I do know that understanding how it feels to be the patient of a life-changing medical event has helped me to be more empathetic.

When I was diagnosed with hip dysplasia the day before my 30th birthday, I was crushed and in denial. I'll be honest and say that there are many days that I am still "in denial" of the reality of my condition. My first reaction was an immature "I told you that something was wrong my hip" but the reality was that I was terribly frightened about what it meant and what changes I would be forced to make. My condition is in no way life-threatening, so I cannot imagine how much more difficult this would be with a cancer diagnosis.

At the initial diagnosis as well as the surgery there is a surge of service that is so comforting. It eased so much of my burden knowing that there were so many people who could and would take care of me and my family. Each time I learned about the need for another surgery or underwent the operation, the outpouring of love and prayers helped me to feel a lot of peace. Especially during and immediately after surgery. My family was the recipient of countless acts of love and service; people brought us dinner, cleaned our house, did my laundry (yes, it was embarrassing, but I was so grateful), showed up randomly to clean gutters and mow lawns, drove our kids places, visited, sent cards and emails and called. It was overwhelming and inspiring and so very appreciated.

For me, the difficult time came about 4-5 weeks after each surgery. I would feel better since the worst of the pain had passed, but still faced a year-long recovery. I started feeling guilty about the meals that were coming to the house once I wasn't bed-bound. I was on crutches, but I was getting to go places and started to feel more mobile. I did a pretty good job of hiding any pain or discouragement I was feeling because I didn't want to be a "downer." People continually asked how I was doing, and I got tired of the honest answer being "not good," so I was always ready to smile and say that I was improving.

I was well-enough to get around, but not healed enough to do basic things like laundry or cleaning. Even though people offered repeatedly, I struggled with accepting help because I already felt like people had done enough and surely there were people with greater needs than mine. My visiting teachers were so good to me each time, and always offered to do more, but I always felt like somehow I would be taking advantage of the help.

It was very easy to get discouraged during this time because I felt like I was completely out of the loop. Life goes on for everyone, as it should, but because I couldn't do the same things and same activities, I felt disconnected. It was partly a situation of my own making, and yet I didn't know how to fix it. It sounds terribly immature, but often in group settings I felt awkward because there were inside jokes that I didn't understand (I have learned to hate the phrase "you had to be there") or experiences that people bonded over that I wasn't able to participate in. This was the time that I needed the most support. There wasn't anything new or exciting happening, just the everyday recovery experiences along with the roller coaster emotions, but I needed people to keep walking my journey with me. I was incredibly blessed all five times to have friends and family tough it out the entire time. Luckily, I'm done with the surgeries, because I don't know if they would hang around for a sixth one. :-)

I do not know if Natalee is feeling like this or not, but regardless I do know that they need us to step forward with love and encouragement now more than ever. The initial crisis has passed, but with Natalee's condition we need to continue to pray as fervently as we have in the past. We need to keep doing everything we can to keep her "in the loop" as much as she wants to be. I've been impressed with how much Natalee's friends have done for her and want you to know that your love and service are genuinely felt and mean more than you know.