So for the past couple of days, I have been whining endlessly about being in the hospital. Let me just assure you that if you are sick of hearing about it, imagine my family’s increasing lack of patience when I once again start talking about poop. It has become the most overused emoji in our entire family.
Yesterday morning I woke up and couldn’t help but notice that I felt, well, pretty darn good. I’d slept reasonably well, my tummy didn’t hurt, I’d regained my taste for coffee (something I thought I’d lost, which was disturbing), and I had a bit of spring in my step. Hmmm, I thought to myself. Maybe the point of being sick – if there is a point, that is — is to learn to appreciate not being sick.
When something happens that shakes your world, you suddenly come face to face with the fact that you (or at least I) take my good life for granted. Because most days, my world isn’t being shaken. And I forget to be grateful for that.
I also began thinking about the fact that decisions we make throughout our lives really do come back to haunt us eventually. Take me, for example. Like us all, from the time I was little, I was taught to enjoy fresh fruit and vegetables, eat lots of fiber, drink plenty of water, get oodles of exercise. And I really – in some part of my brain – believe this to be true.
But even though I know this to be true, I don’t really do as I am told. I probably only eat half the fiber each day that I should. My sisters and my son Court simply don’t understand how I live on as little water as I drink. I will go an entire day and realize that the only liquid I have drunk was my three cups of coffee in the morning. I’m not talking about not drinking enough water; I’m talking not drinking enough ANYTHING.
And so it should come as no surprise that I developed diverticulitis, which led to a perforated colon, which led to surgery, which led (and continues to lead) to occasional bouts of illness. Maybe I couldn’t have changed a thing, but I could have tried.
But even more important, I could – and should – be grateful for every day I have that I’m able to get up in the morning and read the news and talk to my husband, and Facetime with my grandkids (or, better yet, spend ACTUAL time with them). Instead of being impatient about long lines in the grocery store, I should be grateful I can afford to eat what I like and not have to worry about every penny. I should make sure to tell all the people who love me and who have prayed for me and sent good thoughts my way that I love them back and pray for them as well.
Ladies and gentlemen, I’m happy to be back in the mix and raring to go!