Moments That Define

How can it be that some of the darkest times of our lives later become the very moments that shaped us and defined who we are?

As a little girl of eleven-and-a-half, I began struggling greatly with self-esteem issues. Where I saw other girls that age, beginning to blossom, I looked into my bedroom mirror and saw distortion. Something was very wrong. One side of my body was straight and normal. But the other was unimaginably misshapen. I feared telling my mother, because we had recently come through an extremely bleak time. My mother had had a nervous breakdown and was finally well. We'd moved from the only house I'd ever known into a beautiful, wooded area to begin a new life. How could I ruin everything? And I was frightened also. What if this was something really bad?

Putting it out of my mind, I innocently sat on my mother's bed one day while she scratched my back. She stopped. I held my breath. She's noticed something. Mom said to me, "Kar, something's wrong with your back." I went into panic mode. Screaming and crying, I could not be consoled. But my parents made an appointment with a Pittsburgh doctor, a specialist, to find out about this mystery.

It turned out that I had scoliosis, curvature of the spine. Surgery was immediately scheduled.

My parents and I faced the unknown together when we arrived at Children's Hospital. Questions were asked, the answers of some which I didn't want to hear. For I'd found out about plaster body cast, wires, tubes, strange scary things I'd never dealt with before.

Mom was brave through it all. She never let me see how fearful she was. And she treated all the other little girls in the ward with kindness. I began to see in her, the woman I would someday become.

Dad handled this time with his best defense mechanism: humor. With silly words and funny phrases, he kept me laughing through it all. He had make-believe names for some of the doctors and nurses; names he only shared with me. This way of my father would be something that stayed with him all of his life--diffusing tough situations with his humor.

One day in particular comes to mind. We'd heard that Fred Rogers, of "Mr. Rogers Neighborhood" was visiting. I loved his show but wondered what were the chances he would visit my ward. But there, before me, stood the sweet, iconic man. He took time to say something special, as only he could. I, who had felt disgusting, and abnormal, who now lay in a huge body cast, heard words that meant the world to me. "What a pretty girl," he said, smiling that charming smile. It gave me hope--hope that someday, this nightmare would be over, and I had a chance at being normal once again.

Though it was a scary time for all of us, I saw courage that I'd never thought possible. And it changed me. A newfound sense of compassion became a big part of who I was. Just like my mother, I was able to reach out to others who were suffering, thinking beyond my own circumstances. My eyes were opened to them in a major way.

I would use the lessons learned from one of my darkest times, to mold me into a better person. Not only in body, but in spirit.

I know we each have our own cross to bear, nightmare moments that seemed so bleak we thought we would certainly lose our minds, or not make it through. But if we look for the good in others who surrounded us during these times, take a little of their strengths and let it become our own, we will not only survive, but thrive. We will give back to others when it is our turn to be the courageous one.


These photos are from my time in my body cast: