My Right Lung

OK…here’s another personal one.*

I only have a third of my right lung. People gasp and say strange things when I tell them. (I don’t blurt that out very often…it’s not something that regularly comes up in conversation.) When I was in my early 30’s, I had a giant benign growth in my lung, which was spreading like some kind of alien. (I promise…that’s the last gross detail. If you’re squeamish, you can keep reading. There’s a business point I’m going to make eventually!)

It was a tough time. I had major surgery right after I had gotten a big promotion at work. I had a two year old at home. And then, barely a year after I recovered, my father died suddenly. But, like my lung, parts of my life “re-inflated” to fill the empty chest cavity. When you look at my chest x-rays (which I promise not to post here…I do have my limits), you still see a lung on my right side. It just has one big chamber instead of three.  I work-out like a maniac and recently rode 20 miles through the Colorado mountains. I am not afraid to wear backless dresses. I sport my scar proudly. It reminds me of what’s really important in life. Although I don’t recommend spending time in the ICU, it’s a humbling experience.

Many people are missing more body parts than I am (literally and metaphorically). They manage to re-inflate and get through every day. We’ve all had our disappointments, tragedies, and losses. I love hearing stories of people who overcame tremendous obstacles and went on to do great things.

I’m not into “pity poker” (i.e., “My pain and suffering is greater than yours!”) so the point of this post isn’t to prompt sympathy or even empathy. It’s just to let you know that even people who may look “whole” on the outside may be missing stuff. We all just need to acknowledge our gaps, re-inflate, mourn and heal, and move on the best we can.

P.S. My last post of the year will deal with resolutions (of course). Please subscribe so you’ll get it as soon as it comes out!

*My last post about my family photo got such great engagement, I figured I’d step way out there again and bare my soul (and my scar) in 2015.