When I first began writing this blog it was originally supposed to just be an update, but an image that I snapped while visiting Sarah in the hospital after her surgery inspired me to send a symbolic message. I almost deleted the raw file from my SD card because I didn't feel that it was the best, but the more that I observed it and the more that I reflected on the emotions I felt when I snapped the camera kept tugging at my heart. Of course, I'm not going to put that image up top ;) I want to make sure I'm getting my ENTIRE message across, so we'll save that for last.
Sarah came home today, but not without a wild roller coaster ride. She had surgery to remove her thyroid/cancer last Thursday and the aftermath was chaos just as we predicted. Generally, you are able to go home to continue recovering after 24 hours and after this type of procedure it's "normal" for a person's calcium levels to be out of wack and they usually regulate themselves within 48 hours. Sarah's levels have been extremely low along with her magnesium levels, so she had a longer stay unfortunately. If the hospital would have discharged her any earlier with her levels being so low that would have greatly jeopardized her health all together.
I went to the hospital to visit Sarah just a few hours after her surgery. I have to confess that I was really nervous about visiting her. I have never had to deal with seeing a loved one in a hospital after a serious surgery. During the car ride to the hospital I twitched in my seat and went through the motions of all of the annoying nervous habits that I can't help but do during difficult times. As my boyfriend and I walked across the parking lot and towards the hospital entrance I looked up I looked up because I was told that her room was on the 8th floor, so to distract my thoughts I attempted to count up to her floor and wondered which room was hers.
It turns out that I was just as nervous as I thought I would be when I entered her room. My thoughts were, 'Should I knock? Do I talk? Do I touch her? What if I pull one of these iv's or cords out when and/if I hug her'??? Luckily her family was there and they share the same sense of humor as me, so we were able to lighten the mood by cracking a few jokes. I had my camera there to document all of the images that are included in this specific blog, but I was so nervous for the first 20 minutes and could not get focused, so I put the camera down and tried to relax and get used to the environment for a bit.
Visually, I think the most difficult thing was seeing a
draining tube and massive hole coming out of Sarah's neck, which is pictured to the right. She could hardly turn her neck and she spoke very quietly.
She was understandably grumpy, but I could tell that she was happy to have her family and friends visiting . Somehow with perfect timing I happened to capture her friend (who lives in Virginia) checking up on her through a video chat.
Whether it's battling cancer, Crohn's Disease, drug addiction, alcoholism, anxiety, or depression I think that the majority of people would agree that it can be very difficult to understand how sick somebody is when they look totally fine on the outside. We can't physically see the battle, so when our loved ones finally hit rock bottom, take their own life, or are hooked up to a bunch of medical equipment it's the equivalent feeling to a culture shock. I know that I probably say this in just about all of my blogs, but I really don't think a lot of people realize how sick Sarah is. She has really good days, which can be deceiving to others who don't see her on her really bad days. She's held it together pretty well, but things are about to get more difficult for her emotionally. Since Sarah no longer has her thyroid her body isn't able to produce certain hormones and her moods have already began to change drastically and will continue to do so. Eventually, she will take a hormone medication that she will be on for the rest of her life, but within 4 to 6 weeks she has to take a dose of radiation pills and she in unable to start the hormone medication until after radiation because it can interact negatively. This is going to be extremely difficult on everyone because Sarah hasn't and won't be herself for awhile. She's in a very fragile state (emotionally and physically), so it's really important that those who know Sarah really understand this. Little things that normally don't bother her appear to be big problems, her feelings are hurt easily, and her temper is much worse. She was really worried about this before her surgery and mentioned numerous times that she hated the fact that she wouldn't be able to control these emotions, so please. This builds up to what I wrote about in the very beginning of this blog.
Now, in the very beginning of this journey I know that I said I would only include black and white images because I feel they are much more powerful and symbolic for this type of documentary, but I'm going to break this rule for a moment because I find it appropriate in order to get my message across. After all, I am a Photographer.
When I first arrived and was still nervous I stood in the corner of room by the window for a few minutes. As I gazed through the window I observed all of the all of the cars going down the highway and a calm feeling washed over me. The dim street lights, the slightly brighter yet complimenting headlights, and glowing red taillights gave me a warm fuzzy feeling and then something else caught my attention. I glanced up and saw my friend's reflection in the window. She looked so helpless laying in the hospital bed and there was absolutely nothing I could do about it. I thought about how strong of a person she is and quietly snapped a couple of pictures (pictured above), knowing that this was the image that would symbolically describe every frustration that I have been feeling for her.
I turned my attention back to the cars and the highway. I thought about how all of the people driving those cars are innocently going about their daily lives/schedules while people like my friend are fighting for their lives in a hospital that is only a couple hundred feet in distance from the highway that these cars are driving on. Many of these people drive by this hospital everyday and not once do they think about the people who are sitting in a room, watching from a distance. It doesn't make the drivers wrong, but the observing patient can't help but wonder if they're being thought about while they're thinking of them. I can't help but point out that this is how Sarah is feeling. She hasn't come right out and worded it like I am, but it's quite easy to piece together. People in our daily lives are within reaching distance, but they unintentionally neglect the emotional needs of somebody who is struggling. We unintentionally become a landmark in others roads of life and assume that loved ones will always be there just as the hospital becomes a landmark to the drivers on the highway. We are all guilty of becoming so caught up in our own lives and problems that we forget that it's not all about us, just like the drivers who are so set on their route and next destination. They forget that in each of those hospital windows is person who is fighting much harder than they are and more often than not a lonely feeling tags along.
I want to challenge everyone who is reading my blog and the reason being is because Sarah inspires me in more ways than she'll ever realize, so I would like to pass some of that on to whoever is reading this. Who is the emotionally strongest person in your life that comes to mind right off the bat? HUG THEM when you see them next. They may not appear to need a hug, but I guarantee that they need it more than they let on. They may not be enduring the same physical challenges as Sarah, but she is the strongest person who comes to my mind. She's tough as nails, but low and behold, she needed a hug. People need to feel loved by other people... She needed a hug and my hug meant more to her than you could ever imagine. When I went through deep dark depression I pretended to just be angry because I saw my tears as a weakness to others. I remember being randomly hugged a couple of times and I felt a piece of my soul had been healed.. I could actually feel the love in that hug. Don't be the driver who looks at all of their surroundings as landmarks. Realize that there is beauty in EVERYTHING and in every window is a story and familiar person who may need you. You just need to look into that window and put yourself in others shoes.
We're so happy that Sarah is going to be able to spend Christmas at home with her 4 year old son and I'm sure he is happy too. Again, thank you all for your thoughts, kind words, and prayers. I know that the medical staff deserves so much credit as well and we all greatly appreciate them more than you know, but I believe and have faith in the power of prayer just as much.
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