Meet Laura

Laura, center, with her children (L to R) Ted, Will, Seth and Betsy

     Laura looks healthier than most people her age, yet she lives with a chronic illness that requires her to visit the local hospital once a month for the rest of her life. If she didn't, she would die. 

     You would never know it looking at Laura or even spending time with her because Laura chooses to not let her illness define her. Along the way, she's also learned to trust pain and not be afraid of it. 

     In August 2006, Will, one of Laura’s four children, was home from college and noticed her feet were swollen. Laura, an active Realtor, professional school fundraiser, and wife of a minister, stopped long enough to check her blood pressure. The reading was normal.

     At 49-years old, Laura didn’t think much about it. For years, she’d taught swim lessons and coached teams. She was an avid walker and took yoga and weight classes. She knew little aches and pains, even swelling, sometimes come with daily exercise. Laura also knew she was more tired than usual, but she attributed it to having two children still at home and in high school. Betsy, her only daughter, was in her senior year.

     However, two weeks later when her symptoms didn’t go away, she consulted a doctor. Both her white and red blood counts were dangerously low. Her red count should fall between 39 and 45.

     “Mine was 26. You start losing brain cells at around 22 because you don’t have any oxygen. You can go into cardiac arrest,” she explained.

     Her white count should fall between 5,000 and 8,000. “Mine was 2,000,” she added.

     The next day, Laura and her husband drove to a specialist. On the way, Laura started to have a heart attack. Her heart was pumping too fast. They made it to the hospital where she was admitted for testing and days of poking and prodding.

Laura with Kenny, her husband of 29 years. "Getting sick was the best thing for our marriage," Laura said. "Kenny was just a rock star - all the shots, all the things he did - twice we took a break for a week from all the doctor visits and treatments. One week, he took me to a movie every day. He kept our head on for us. He kept things stable and calm."

     Two weeks later without a diagnosis, she was sent home. Kenny learned how to to give her shots every day. Nothing made her better. She felt like she had the worse case of mono. Everything ached. Just walking the 20 feet from the house to the car zapped her energy.

     Over the next eight months while doctors tried to diagnose her symptoms, Laura was admitted into the hospital 14 times, endured 14 blood transfusions (one every three weeks) four bone marrow aspirations (“craaaazy” painful, she said), received three rounds of chemo, participated in numerous experimental treatments, and had her spleen removed.

     Not surprisingly if you know Laura, she was never alone. Besides Kenny and the children, throughout the journey, she’d wake up and find hospital staff – doctors, nurses, and technicians – praying beside her bed.

     In the end, Laura discovered not only had she been exposed to tuberculosis while living overseas but worse, she was born with a compromised immune system.

     “I don’t have two components in my immune system,” she said.

     If left untreated, Laura could have died. Now once a month, she gets up early and drives herself to the hospital. For 10 hours straight, she sits quietly in a chair surrounded by other patients, some, just days from death, while an IV drips her missing blood products into her vein. Then she drives herself home and spends the next 12 hours sick to her stomach.

     This procedure has become part of Laura’s life but it doesn’t define her. She trusts God’s plan although she continues to challenge her body.

     Nearly two years ago, after getting her doctor’s approval, Laura and I trained for our first half marathon together. Each week, we’d text each other to confirm our walking times before meeting. One day, she didn’t respond. 

     “Where were you yesterday?” I asked as we race walked our 8-mile course along the river and through old town, past mothers pushing babies in carriages and elderly couples strolling in silence holding hands.

     “Oh sorry, it was my hospital day,” Laura said.