<http://schema.org/articleBody>
" We all know the library is great for grabbing this season&amp;#039;s must-read or renting videos for the kids. But what happens when you&amp;#039;re confronted with a health crisis and you need to figure out what to do next? Would you think to turn to the library for support\u2014whether it&amp;#039;s the latest medical research, an empathetic story or the comforting words of a favorite author? In partnership with the American Library Association, WD asked readers to tell us how the library improved their health. Here&amp;#039;s what a few of them had to say.   A Wise Voice in a Time of Fear Elaine Elinson, 61 San Francisco   January 2001 went by in a blur. It started with my husband&amp;#039;s many medical appointments, trying to figure out why he was having trouble breathing, and ended in a trip to the ER when he couldn&amp;#039;t breathe at all. After doctors discovered a cancerous tumor blocking Rene&amp;#039;s trachea, he was immediately moved to ICU. I spent a week there waiting for surgeons and comforting Rene as best I could. My days were consumed by the daily tasks of cancer; my nights were spent in a folding chair by his bedside.   The Valentine hearts and cutouts of Cupid tacked onto the dull green walls of the oncology ward seemed to mock me. I wanted a cure for the man I loved, not soppy promises of romance. I didn&amp;#039;t dare leave the ward. What if the moment I walked out for a cup of coffee, the surgeon showed up?   Early one morning, Rene took a turn for the worse. He choked on the tumor and had to be intubated and doped into unconsciousness. Under the harsh fluorescent light I watched the faint rise and fall of his chest. By late afternoon, the nurse told me that his surgeon wouldn&amp;#039;t be able to do the surgery that day. I should take a break, she said.   For the thousandth time, I checked my husband&amp;#039;s breath. I could take a walk for five minutes. Across the street I saw the Fillmore branch of the San Francisco Public Library. I had never been there\u2014we lived on the other side of town\u2014but the familiar golden glow of the lights illuminating rows of books drew me inside.   It immediately felt like home. Near the entrance, some wonderful librarian had displayed books that celebrated affairs of the heart\u2014Romeo and Juliet and Wuthering Heights, Anna Karenina and Doctor Zhivago. The books beckoned, but I was too exhausted to wade through a long novel, so I picked up a slim volume of poetry by Mary Oliver. I figured I could read it and still keep an eye on the clock. I thumbed through the poems and reached &amp;quot;University Hospital, Boston.&amp;quot; There was our story, the &amp;quot;intricate machines / chart with cool devotion,&amp;quot; the &amp;quot;day and night the doctors keep / arriving,&amp;quot; the &amp;quot;murmur of the blood.&amp;quot;   And then the line where the poet tells herself that her loved one is better, &amp;quot;because my life without you would be / a place of parched and broken trees.&amp;quot; My eyes stinging with tears, I rushed back to the hospital, sat on my husband&amp;#039;s bed and read the poem over and over again to the rhythm of his mechanized breathing. It was as if the poem had been sent for me, to get me through that frightening night.   The surgeon removed the tumor the next day. Rene could breathe again and sit up and smile. I had the best Valentine dinner of my life: peanuts and dried apricots in the recovery ward. He dined on ice chips.   A Comforting Connection Amy A. Smith, 33 Minneapolis   After two heartbreaking miscarriages, I finally became pregnant again in August 2003. My husband and I were cautiously optimistic. On one hand I was thrilled, but at the same time I was terrified. I wasn&amp;#039;t sure that I could endure another loss\u2014either physically or emotionally. Weeks turned into months, and under the careful watch of my ob-gyn, I gave birth at 38 weeks to Colin, a 9-pound, 3-ounce miracle.   Once my anxiety-ridden pregnancy was over, I thought that all my problems were solved. But within hours of Colin&amp;#039;s birth, I knew I just didn&amp;#039;t feel right. I was healing well from my C-section, but mentally, I was a wreck. I became overly anxious about everything, from my incompetence at breastfeeding to the prospect of being wholly responsible for a new, fragile human being. This anxiety turned into panic and hopelessness\u2014 definitely not the run-of-the-mill &amp;quot;baby blues&amp;quot; that I&amp;#039;d read about.   By the time I came home from the hospital, I had trouble eating, sleeping and even smiling. I cried for hours every day, knowing that I should be grateful for my healthy son, but feeling exactly the opposite. At my first postpartum checkup, my doctor suggested an antidepressant. She quickly wrote the prescription and walked out of the room\u2014leaving me with unanswered questions. How common was postpartum depression? Was it safe to take antidepressants while breastfeeding? Would I be on the medication for the rest of my life?   Always an eager student, I turned to the one resource I knew I could trust: my local library. I began to do Internet searches, and I learned that the risks of not taking an antidepressant for postpartum depression far outweighed the risks of taking one while breastfeeding. The most important resource I found, the one that really changed my way of thinking about and living with depression, was Brooke Shields&amp;#039; Down Came the Rain. After reading her book, I no longer felt alone. Her honesty about her feelings of hopelessness and desperation helped normalize what I was feeling. If Brooke Shields, a film and television star, could endure the same psychological challenges that I did post-baby and emerge even stronger for it, I could, too.   Now, almost five years after Colin&amp;#039;s birth, I am a mother of two (Caroline joined our family in June 2007) who has found her true self again. I still take antidepressants and occasionally struggle with anxiety, but I am not the scared, fragile person I was just a few years ago. My library is one of the greatest blessings in my life. Instead of spending my time there researching postpartum depression, I now search the catalog for books on any topic that interests me, from Frank Lloyd Wright to the history of the American kitchen. The library has enriched my life beyond measure, making me a woman\u2014and a mother\u2014who loves life.   A Lifesaving Link Carol Strazer, 68 Red Feather Lakes, CO   What if Bob or I get seriously ill? The question taunted us as we moved into our small log cabin, set on a granite ledge 8,650 feet above sea level, in the Northern Colorado Rockies. We&amp;#039;d be living over 50 miles from the nearest city and more than an hour from the nearest hospital. Why was a 60-plus couple retiring in a remote area, even if the fishing was good? Part of the answer came when I traveled along the dirt roads of our community to nearby Red Feather Lakes Community Library and discovered the helpful staff, free classes and high-speed Internet access.   Glancing in the mirror one morning in 2007, I was surprised to discover a large bulge at the base of my neck. I pushed on it and it was hard. Maybe this is why I&amp;#039;ve been having difficulty swallowing, I said to myself. After appointments with my local physician and a surgeon, I learned I had an enlarged, rapidly growing thyroid gland. They recommend surgery to remove my thyroid and possibly my parathyroid as well.   What if I had cancer? What if the surgery injured my vocal cords? I&amp;#039;d had a friend who could only whisper after a similar surgery. Not long before, I had participated in a free medical information class taught at the library by an expert from the National Library of Medicine, who had traveled over two hours to get to us from the campus of the University of Colorado at Denver. The class had been especially helpful because we learned which Internet medical sites we could actually trust. I decided to use some of those sites to learn more about my condition and see if I really needed the surgery.   When I entered the library after my diagnosis, Sarah, the head librarian, immediately welcomed me. No matter how busy the staff and volunteers are, they&amp;#039;re always there with a supportive presence and expert advice. I visited MedlinePlus (medlineplus.gov), a free consumer health information site, and found out that the parathyroid does not always have to be removed and in most cases an enlarged thyroid is not cancerous\u2014and even if it is, it&amp;#039;s usually treatable. The research reassured me, making me less fearful about what lay ahead. I decided that surgery was the best choice, and after the three-and-a-half-hour procedure, my surgeon explained that part of my small, butterfly-shaped thyroid gland had grown to the size of a grapefruit! One lobe had even grown into my lung, and other parts were pressing on my carotid artery and esophagus. If it had not been removed, I could have died.   Fortunately, my parathyroid gland was still intact, my vocal cords were fine, and the growths were not cancerous. With deep gratitude, I thanked God for excellent doctors, a supportive family and friends, and our little mountain library for all the help they gave me.   A Light in the Darkness Linda Slayton, 44 Des Moines, IA   Today I read a romance novel by Nora Roberts, escaping into a world of broken hearts and heroes. This might not seem unusual for most people, but for me, I didn&amp;#039;t always think it was possible. I am legally blind, and while diabetes didn&amp;#039;t capture all of my vision, it did make it impossible for me to read a book\u2014in print, that is.   I&amp;#039;ve had diabetes since I was 8, and even though my parents and I had been warned that the disease could cause any number of problems, I didn&amp;#039;t actually believe it. All I had to worry about was making sure I took my insulin and going for a checkup every six months. For 13 years, I stayed pretty healthy. Suddenly, when I was 21, my vision began declining so rapidly that I had to give up driving. Then I lost my job. Then I lost my joy, reaching that point of despair where everything seemed hopeless.   Wanting desperately to dig myself out of depression, I contacted the Iowa Department for the Blind and a counselor there told me about library services. Growing up, I was always reverential when I walked through the doors of a library\u2014there was a new world awaiting me. Early on, I met friends named Pooh and Laura Ingalls. Later, I discovered everyone from Chaucer to Pavlov.   When I first lost my sight, it was heartbreaking to also lose that connection to books. But I discovered that through a program with the Library of Congress, I could have books on tape mailed directly to my house. I simply called the library and chose the titles I wanted, from the latest issues of magazines to the current bestsellers. I listened to them and mailed them back. If a certain item wasn&amp;#039;t available on tape, the library would record it for me. I could even get the textbooks I needed to complete my bachelor&amp;#039;s degree in social work.   Through the Library of Congress, I was able to regain one piece of everyday life\u2014and one piece was all I needed to keep me from giving up. The library helped me realize that I could live my life as a blind person, I just had to live it in a different way. In fact, it even brought me love. I met my husband, Kevin, who is also blind, while at the Iowa Department for the Blind. We got together under the ploy of reading Peter Straub&amp;#039;s Ghost Story and have now been married for five years. It&amp;#039;s funny, I was always told to be mindful of my health. Luckily, the library taught me that the way to good health is to have a mind that&amp;#039;s full.   Has the library helped you save money? If the library has gotten you or your family out of a tough financial crunch, helping you save in unexpected ways, tell us about it in an essay of 700 words or less. Up to four women&amp;#039;s stories will be featured in an upcoming issue of Woman&amp;#039;s Day. Go to womansday.com/ala between February 17 and May 18 for official rules and how to enter. "^^<http://www.w3.org/2001/XMLSchema#string>
<http://www.womansday.com/health-fitness/wellness/a3393/beyond-books-how-libraries-can-help-50752/?src=shelter_footer>