A Washington Post article about a Bethesda teen who’s recovering from an infection with necrotizing fasciitis (also known as “flesh-eating bacteria”) got me thinking – after I read every word. I couldn’t help but see a few parallels between her 16th birthday and my own. We both “celebrated” in hospitals, uncertain about our futures. And both of us were changed by our brushes with death at a young age.
Doctors credit Alexis Hanford’s fighting, positive attitude for making “the difference” in recovering from her infection. I don’t remember what my attitude toward my illness was, and really the parallels end with those two: “sweet 16” birthday in hospital, coming out with a new perspective on life.
My illness – characterized by dangerously low white blood cell and platelet counts – was never diagnosed with any certainty, and my struggle did not include high fevers or pain measured at 10 on a scale of 1 to 10, as did Alexis’s. True, I was confused about what was going on inside my body, and I remember studying about it – reading everything I could understand and writing papers for school before we knew that I would have to give up my junior year. But I don’t remember feeling I was fighting for my life, and I certainly didn’t face the months of rehab and pain Alexis has been through and continues to face.
Post reporter Valerie Strauss got me to thinking about this when she quoted Alexis as saying, “It just makes you look at life differently.” In retrospect, and even at the time, I have been aware of the changes this experience brought about in my approach to life, and particularly how I face adversity.
I think Alexis was referring to her exposure to people with worse afflictions than her own: she said, “What we consider normal — going to college, getting a job, getting married — isn’t going to happen for those people.” I wasn’t exposed to other people during my hospitalizations in 1963 – my low white count left me vulnerable to infection and kept me in isolation, both in the hospitals and at home, for months. I’m pretty sure I didn’t think about anyone other than myself during my recovery.
But I knew I was going through a life-changing experience. It was fall in Kansas City, and I remember watching the leaves change colors outside my window at Menorah Hospital. By the time spring came, massive doses of prednisone had begun to work, mysteriously, toward bringing my blood counts up somewhat. I still couldn't go out much, so I spent a lot of time watching the buds and leaves unfold on the trees.
For many a spring thereafter, I made sure I watched the leaves grow in the spring. I’m pretty sure my love of nature and growing things stems from the attention I paid, through the windows, to the outside world that spring.
My parallel with Alexis Hanford, though, is in another change I perceived from the newspaper article: acquiring a different view of life. Focusing on what’s really important is pretty easy for me – I haven’t got much patience for petty jealousies or gossip, and I don’t put much importance on glitz and glamour. I don’t waste much time or energy on pursuits that aren’t rewarding in one way or another. And, I thank my lucky stars for all the wonderful experiences I’ve had while trying not to take tomorrow for granted.
I think it all stems back to my 17th year, not the happiest time of my life but one that I’m grateful for nonetheless.