That week in Chicago

So much life has happened in the last month. I've started several posts at different times to update y'all on our life and what is happening, but they always fell by the wayside.

And now, as I sit in our very messy, 1/4 unpacked apartment in Columbia, I'm still not going to explain what's happening with us. Not today.

What brings me back to the blogging world this morning is that, four years ago today, I was having reconstructive back surgery at Northwestern University Hospital in Chicago.

I've made mention of this anniversary the last couple years on Facebook. But when I woke up this morning and realized the date, I wondered about whether I should say anything about it; whether recalling attention to that time is relevant, or necessary, or worth the time. Let's be honest, my back has had enough attention to last a lifetime.

But when I recall that week of hospitalization in 2009, it's not the surgery I think about. It's not the pain and the struggle that I dwell on. The shining memory from those seven days, and the days of my recovery that followed, is how incredibly loved I felt by those who cared for me.

My surgery and subsequent recovery was the most humbling (read: often humiliating) time of my entire life. I was literally unable to do anything by myself. I needed help just to get out of bed, let alone walk, eat, clean/dress myself, etc. I hate to ask people for help, but I quickly had to swallow my pride and allow my caretakers to inconvenience themselves for me. To wake up throughout the night to help me move, to raise my spirits with conversation and laughter, to sleep in hospital waiting rooms, to track down nurses when I needed something, to help me eat just to deal with the sickness that followed, to sit by me as I cried and pay attention to the doctors when I couldn't focus because of the pain killers.  Most of all, to do all these things and more without ever making me feel embarrassed or like a burden.

So, on this anniversary, I want to say thank you to my parents, Drew, and Josiah. I don't know what you think about when you remember that week, but for the rest of my life, June 12th will be a day that I remember each of you with overwhelming gratitude.