Heroes

It is pretty cool to read about heroes in books or stories but it is really cool when get to know one and extremely cool when you get to have one in your family. My sister Lindsay definitely falls into the hero category. Her life has been anything but easy but she has used all of her trauma to fuel a fire to help other people.

She was first diagnosed with a brain tumor when she was only two. After her first surgery she had to relearn how to talk and struggled keeping up with the other kids her first few years of school. Soon though, she was at the top of her class and was very much an advocate for anyone who struggled physically or emotionally. She was an excellent athlete, a wonderful artist, a gifted musician and a great student.

Then while I was home, in Cairo, from my freshman year of college a family friend of ours approached me and asked if Lindsay had ever had any seizures. He had thought he had seen her have a small seizure and so after many medical tests my family returned to the States. Lindsay struggled to attend classes at the local community college on increasing medication that made her speech slurred and her hands shake so badly it was hard to play the piano or paint. Eventually it was decided that the risks of surgery were greater than the risks of letting the tumor stay, so she was admitted to Johns Hopkins for a second surgery.

Lindsay's second surgery was successful and a few weeks later she became engaged to a good man (with great medical insurance). My mom told me that she was so excited, she left the house with out her head scarf to go ring shopping. In the next few years she moved to Hawaii, graduated from BYU-Hawaii with a BS in social work, had a beautiful little boy, moved to St. Louis to attend one of the best grad schools in the country for social work. She then worked with African refugees, foster kids that lived in a group home and at a battered women's shelter. She graduated with her Masters and had a second sweet little son. Soon after her baby was born the seizures started again.

In the last few months she has had to live in my parents house so they can take care of her and her boys while her husband tries to work in both Virginia and St. Louis. She couldn't drive, was on a cartload of medications and couldn't be alone in case she had another seizure. After waiting for almost eight months in fear and uncertainty she went in to her third brain surgery. While I was with her in the hospital, even while in considerable pain, she was concerned about me and my comfort, talking to me about how excited she was about our adoption and telling me about the foster kids she had worked with.

She was discharged this last Saturday and is doing relatively well. Her two surgeries in ten days left her in excruciating pain for several days but seems to have been successful. I know she is self-conscious about what years of surgery and medication have done to her body but I can honestly say she is one of the most beautiful people I know, in every sense of the word. She will carry scars from her surgeries but each one of them represents a trial she has overcome, a heart that she has helped heal, a broken life that she has helped sew back together, and an underdog that accomplished something because she was a champion for them.

I don't know how much direction God had in choosing who was born into what family but I know I have been so blessed to have Lindsay as my sister. After years of sibling rivalry, fighting over clothes, makeup and boys, I can say that I am lucky to count her not just as a sister but as a best friend.



My sister Mary donated her hair to Locks of Love in Lindsay's name