Tragedy Strikes an Old Friend. Autoimmune Strikes Again.

When I first heard of her pain it was in a prayer request on Facebook. I hadn’t spoken with Carrie in more than 10 years. She was a dear friend from a long ago chapter in my life that I had mostly put in a box of memories and reminisced over once every couple of years or so. Of course, I watched from a distance on Facebook, liking photos, and just generally “keeping up” with Carrie as I do with so many others.

I don’t remember how I met them or how soon after the start of Freshman year in college that I became friends with “the twins.” They were as close to sweetness and light as I had ever known. Inseparable, I often wondered how two people could be so much a part of each other and still themselves. But of course, they were.

Carrie was a beautiful girl with pudgy cheeks that made her look a little younger than she was. She smiled virtually all the time unless she was giving a comic deadpan look or a sultry pose for a photo. And her sultry look could knock you off your feet. Those eyes! I think Carrie was a little concerned that people might think she was unfit because of her pudgy cheeks. I remember being compelled, quite sincerely, to poke her thigh. Like granite. I was impressed. She was satisfied. Carrie was fit and athletic and contained boundless energy beyond your typical 18 year old. This is how I remember her. And I remember her far more often than she would guess.

My mouth dropped open when I first read about her mysterious ailments and the extraordinary pain that accompanied them. We seem to be the Auto-immune generation. I’ve know a number of people afflicted with some kind of wandering, disorienting and painful ailment that takes months or years to diagnose ,or simply never is. The cost in dollars, time, quality of life and lost opportunities is immense. But what I read months ago shocked me beyond simply an unhappy update on an old friend.

I left that college a year and half in. Challenges and injuries in gymnastics, the driver behind selecting this University, I wanted to start fresh in a new school. Not my finest hour. And that’s why I put it in a box. Somehow, and without realizing it, the friends that I made in that short time stayed very close in my heart. None more so than Carrie. I’m not sure that anyone really knew how much I was struggling at that time, but Carrie always made me smile. She was always there when I needed a friend and something about Carrie just always made your heart feel lighter. There was a joy around and about her. Now, seeing the outpouring from her other friends on Facebook, I can see that I am not alone in experiencing her this way.

It was months ago that I learned about the pain and began praying for her as she requested. I’m a faithful man and I believe in prayer. I’m also an experienced man and have known prayers to go unanswered, or perhaps be answered in a way that I don’t understand. I know what it’s like to rage at Him in my unknowing. I find myself there again.

The latest missive from Carrie came days ago. In less than 1 year she has become housebound accept for doctor visits and often carried by husband. She writes that the last 10 months have “been beyond a nightmare of pain and symptoms and confusion and anxiety and fatigue…” My heartbreaks as I read. I see her in my mind. 18 years old. Beautiful smile. And then I read “I regret to say I’m possibly too far gone at this point, so I ask that the support and prayers transfer to my beloved husband and son and sissy and parents.” I’m lost at the thought of a world without Carrie. I’m in awe of her courage. I’m inspired by the sheer magnitude of the love she has and receives. I still rage for my friend. But I also know her light may be brighter now than it has ever been.

She closes “if anyone can muster a miracle for me, hop to it. Xoxo” And with that, in all my sadness, she makes me smile again :)

If you want to help, Carrie has a gofundme campaign to help pay for treatment.