You Don’t Have to Know All the Answers

Sometimes we think being strong means knowing exactly what to do.

It doesn’t.

I think we put a lot of pressure on ourselves to have answers—especially when someone we love is depending on us. We think we should understand what the doctors are saying. We should know what questions to ask. We should somehow know when to push and when to wait.

But most of us walk into those moments without a map.

Sometimes strength looks like asking the question you’re afraid to ask.

Sometimes it looks like saying, “I don’t understand. Explain it again.”

Sometimes it means being the only person in the room willing to say, “Something isn’t right.”

And sometimes it’s simply staying in the chair when every part of you wants to run from what might come next.

One of the things I’ve learned is that advocacy doesn’t require expertise.

You don’t have to know the medical terminology. You don’t have to understand every test or procedure. You don’t have to walk into the room already knowing what the answer should be.

You’re allowed to ask.

And if you don’t understand the answer, you’re allowed to ask again.

There were plenty of times during Roger’s hospital stay when I didn’t know what was happening or what should happen next. What I did know was Roger. I knew when something felt different. I knew when an answer didn’t make sense to me. And I knew when I still had questions.

Sometimes that was enough to make me ask one more.

I think that applies to more than hospital rooms, too.

There are so many times in life when we convince ourselves that everyone else knows something we don’t—that maybe we should stay quiet until we understand more.

Maybe strength isn’t having all the answers.

Maybe it’s being willing to keep asking the questions.

— Melanie Rae