A quick note to start - this post is my way of dealing with some rough stuff. A good friend of mine is being moved to hospice care after an 11-month battle with hypoplastic myelodysplastic syndrome, which is a bone marrow disease. In some ways I feel selfish that this post will focus on my experience, my grief, my story, when to me this is really about her, her husband, her family, and her closer friends. That being said, I am here on my blog right now and I'm writing this to share and process my own story of friendship with this amazing woman. Just wanted to start with that, and then give myself permission to focus on Laura's effect on me - as one example of the many people she's touched in her life.
I first knew who Laura was from her blog,
alis volat propriis. We had some mutual online friends in the wide military spouse community, so I first got to know her that way. Last summer I found out she and her husband would be moving to my location (which I've recently called Military Home #1). I was interested in widening my circle and thought she'd be a good person to know, so I messaged her to ask if we could meet up. She proposed meeting at the gym to do an elliptical workout while chatting, and I agreed.
During that first meeting in August, it became clear to me that this was a wonderful person who immediately put me at ease. I was a newly married military wife, and my husband had only been graduated from school a short time, while hers had been in the regular military a bit longer, and they'd been married about 2 years at that point. I guess it isn't that much longer to be married, but at 3 months for me, she seemed worlds wiser and more experienced than I was, and in some ways that was very true. From our very first meeting, Laura embraced me fully and let me right into her life - and introduced me to some other women who had more experience with the military than I. She invited me to regular lunches and made me feel like part of their group, despite the fact that most of them had already dealt with deployments and other things that I hadn't faced yet.
As we got to know each other better, I realized that Laura was the type of person, and military wife, that I wanted to be as I moved into the newest phase of my own life. She was realistic and didn't sugarcoat, but she always found the best in things. When her husband was overseas, she moved to DC and worked, giving herself a full and vibrant life - making the most of all the time she had. She was warm, caring, funny, and giving. I was so grateful that she was one of my new friends, and I looked forward to being able to spend time with her until the spring.
In November, after a group of us had had one of those lunches I talked about, some symptoms she'd been experiencing finally caused her to go to the hospital. After her blood tests showed incredibly low counts, she was transferred to a different local hospital, and then a more specialized one in another state (near her home), and was diagnosed with her disease. At that time, in addition to feeling sad about her diagnosis, I was disappointed that she wouldn't be moving back to MH #1 anytime soon. As I said, I'd looked forward to having her around longer, particularly as hubby was about to leave for training (the same type of training her husband had been through a couple years earlier).
She kept us posted as the months went on, through her joys and disappointments while waiting for a match for a bone marrow transplant. Her transplant happened in July, and in the past few months she developed various complications - she and her parents kept those who knew her updated through an online journal.
Based on the updates, it became clear to me this past week (Wednesday morning, actually), that this battle was not going to have a happy ending. It really hit me hard, in part because, to be honest, I hadn't really let myself face that possibility. I know that I was living in a world of denial, but while I knew it was serious, I quite simply chose to believe all this time that she would get through these tough times and get better.
As of this morning, I've read an update that says that Laura was able to express her wishes to her husband and parents. She no longer wants life sustaining medication, just pain medication.
There is nothing I can say to really put this in perspective. The only perspective I have is to be glad I was lucky enough to meet Laura and have her as a friend. She will continue to influence how I live my life, for the rest of my life. I of course grapple with why this had to happen to her, and with the general unfairness of it all, but I know there are no good answers to those types of questions. For my part, I suppose I will just have to continue processing what I feel. I have been lucky to have friends near and far offer their support the past few days, and of course I'm grateful.
If you're reading this, I'm just sending out a general hope for prayers and thoughts for Laura, her husband, the rest of her family, and her network of friends.
Here she is after the National Half Marathon in March 2010 - before I even met her. She ran the Army Ten-Miler about a year ago, roughly a month before she entered the hospital (and definitely when she'd been feeling under the weather already). She really is amazing.
Another, just to share the stunning smile that will always be my image of her. (I cropped her hubby out of this just to respect his privacy, as I don't know if I'd have his permission to put his image here - but as you can see, she's standing next to him in this photo, which I got on her Fbook page.)
Laura, I am blessed to have met you last year and to have been able to spend the time with you that I did. I hope you know how much you mean to me. One of the main things I am taking away from my emotions this week is yet another, painful reminder that we should always tell the people we love how much they mean to us.
And that's really all I can offer by way of conclusion - if you've read to this point, thanks for "listening" as I use my blog for emotional therapy today.