Allison Kristine Hahnel

Earlier this week, my mother commissioned me to write an article on my sister. Here is what we came up with together:

Allison Kristine Hahnel

Much like yourself, I’m only human. I imagine that the two most human questions would be these (and in this order): Are you okay? What happened?

Well, no, I am not okay. As for what happened – I could tell you to “read between the lines” in the above obituary, but that would be nearly as cruel as it would be useless. On the other hand, I can’t provide you with a one-plus-one-equals-two answer either. The complexity of the life that existed “between the lines” could never really be put to words. The emotions ineffable… the psychology beyond the human grasp.

Certain aspects of our lives can be called a dimension. Everyone has a financial dimension, a family dimension, a spiritual dimension, etc. As one of my family members liked to say – we all lived with the Allison Dimension. We adopted that term as a simple way to refer to all of the complexity that came with Allison’s life.

My mother always had a hard time having children. I mean that in a very literal medical sense. Allison was the first born, but not nearly the first pregnancy. During her birth, Allison’s umbilical cord ended up wrapped around her neck. It is ironic that the very thing which had supplied her with life quickly became a deadly weapon against that life. As the noose tightened, oxygen was cut off from her brain. She almost died. In his infinite and confusing wisdom, God had mercy. Allison’s beautiful little eyes opened up; she was two months premature and having endured asphyxiation-induced brain trauma.

From that moment on Allison and my mother were spiritually bonded beyond the normal connection that human instinct offers you and I. The doctors told my mother that Allison would never walk, speak, or communicate in any sensible form. “Vegetable.” It was recommended that my mother should turn Allison over to the care of the state. Instead, our Mom personally raised allison at home over the proceeding 18 years. When Allison moved out at age 19, my warrior angel of a mother continued to care for her almost daily for a further 11 years.

During the time that Allison and I shared a roof (my first 14 years), she learned to speak and articulate her thoughts like any child and teenager would. Starting with her ability to speak and reason, personal disregard for her own medical prognoses became a common thread in Allison’s life. She often surprised (baffled) doctor’s with her strength to break through medical barriers.

My sister weathered more storms and won more medical battles than I have ever heard of. Like stripes on a soldiers uniform, here are some of her battle scars:

• Complete Posterior Spinal Fusion.
  Allison’s spine was curved to the point that it was crushing her heart cavity. Metal rods were fused with her spine all the way up and down to hold her more erect. This surgery robbed her of her ability to crawl around by herself. She became completely immobile and bound to a wheelchair.
   
• Repeated ear infections.
  As a child, she was highly susceptible to ear infections. They were a regular occurrence.
   
• Feeding Tubes.
  There were multiple times in her life that Allison needed a feeding tube or direct intravenous nutrition supplements due to appetite loss from all of the surgeries, drugs, and depression.
   
• Drowning above ground.
  A particular chemical procedure required direct ingestion of a fluid through a feeding tube. Of course, ingestion would imply that the tube should have gone into her stomach. Naturally, nothing was so simple with Allison. The nurses managed to put the feeding tube into her lungs. After some time passed my father, a Respiratory Therapist, rightly started barking orders down the hospital corridor. As Allison’s cheeks had begun to turn blue, he had realized that she was drowning.
   
• Intestine Work and Colostomy.
  Weak eyes should not read on. At one point Allison’s insides were so messed up that food couldn’t pass all the way through. Her digestive track was so backed up that “the brown stuff” ended up coming back up the wrong end. In the end, a large portion of her intestines had to be removed to alleviate the situation. A colostomy bag was also added to ease her care needs.
   
• Brain surgery. Yup.
  I can’t remember the true name for this procedure. It seems like a sick joke, but at the end of all things it turns out that Allison had a genetic problem whereby her skull began growing again – but only on the inside. Her skull had steadily been thickening on the inside for years (decades?) to the point that her brain was being compressed. Doctors were able to alleviate some of this pressure by cutting out some of the bone tissue. Unfortunately, pneumonia set in quickly after the surgery and we lost Allison about two weeks later.

Beyond this short list, my memory fails me. But, there were many more battles and victories. She went through things that, by the grace of God, you and I never will never have to. Through all of this, though, the truly amazing thing about my sisters life is not how much she endured on the medical front, but how much she accomplished in spite of her disabilities and medical setbacks.

The organizations and projects listed in her obituary don’t give a clear picture of how much of a difference my sister made (and will continue to make) in the lives of others. From the little community of Lynden to thousands of others around the globe wo will never even hear her name. For her 29 years she was a lightning rod for miracles, sociopolitical networking, medical progress, and spiritual growth.

If you have never met my sister, I’m sorry for your loss. The Allison Dimension, though hard to understand, was life-changing for everyone who came in contact with it. We all loved her dearly, and I will miss her for the rest of my time on this confusing little world.