Pardon me, I’m totally having a major “a-ha!” moment here.
I was looking at pictures from Kenya (no rare occurrence around here, trust me) and then somehow eventually found myself entranced by photos from my times spent in the hospital in high school having leg surgeries (a much more rare occurrence to be reliving these memories). I saw photos of myself: weak and pale, tangled up in pulse oximetry monitors and IV tubing, huge cast on my leg. Then, something clicked: I saw it.
“Life, for the most part, inevitably becomes routine, the random confluence of timing and fortune that configures its components all but forgotten. But every so often, I catch a glimpse of my life out of the corner of my eye, and am rendered breathless by it.” -Jonathan Tropper, Everything Changes
I think back:
A bone infection and its complications led to over 25 surgeries starting when I was 16. High school, for me, was three years in a wheelchair and crutches. I wouldn’t wish the hell of it on my worst enemies.
But it shaped me.
Two really incredible infectious disease doctors worked to heal my bone infection. They both were interested in global health, and a seed was planted. I somehow came out of the fog of the 3 years of constant surgeries and hospitalizations knowing that going to Africa was next for me. My heart was eager and ready after all of my pain to go to Ghana and work in an orphanage. To keep this entry a manageable length, I’ll leave it at this: Ghana was my everything. Redemption, at last, from years of a not-so-certain future. Life will be mine.