Isolated ... But Not Alone

This post is #121 in a year-long series ... Through this series of posts I plan to share our family's experiences during our 17-year-old daughter's year-long battle with brain cancer, which began in February of 2008. My desire is to process through the events of that year from the perspective that a decade of time has brought ... for myself, really. But if you'd like to follow along, you're welcome to join me.

October 28, 2008

Because of her very low immunity, Hannah's doctors ordered her to be isolated.  Other than trips to radiation and doctor's appointments, she had to stay home.  No school, no church, no going out to eat, no ball games.  At that point in her treatment, she wasn't really going out much anyway, so that wasn't too much of a problem.

Not only could she not go out, but no one could come in.  That meant no visits from friends or even extended family.  Even that didn't seem to bother her too much.  The ongoing radiation treatments were burning the delicate tissues of her throat, and that, combined with increasing fatigue, made her not really feel like visiting with people. 

Even without the immunity issues, her cancer served as an isolating factor from her friends -- her disease set her apart, made her "different" -- something no teenager wants to be. 

Hannah and I were together practically 24 hours a day ... but she was isolated from even me.  As hard as I tried, and as much as I wanted to, I could only peer in from the outside.  I could not carry her burden for her ... not even for a little while ... and I could not fully understand what she was going through.  I could not lie beside her in an MRI tube, take a radiation treatment, swallow her chemotherapy pills, carry the weight of her fatigue, or feel the pain in her throat.  I did not know what it felt like to have my hair come loose in my hands.

This was a journey she had to make alone.

But she wasn't alone ... not really.  God was with her every step of the way.  He had redeemed her and called her by name.  There's no other explanation for how she could have accepted everything that happened to her with such grace and peace.  I'm so thankful that even though she was isolated, she was never truly alone.