I received the good news this morning that a friend's surgery went well. Until I know, there is this buzz in the back of my head. A little worry theme that accompanies whatever else I am doing. And how my mood has lightened by the reassurances, and my breath airier. At my age, there is a lot of this sort of thing. Many friends struggle with health issues and tests where the results are awaited with fear and hope. I don't think it gets easier, but it is now a familiar world - this world of loss and pain and fear. Every day I am grateful for health. It's what I pray for most with those I love and those I don't even know. With health, all other problems can be tackled. Without it, the challenge becomes in striving for it, or some semblance of it.
Loss of a sense of control has given me a sense of the gift of health. The pleasure of walking, bending, lifting, using my hands. Last night I was knitting as we watched a pretty awful movie, and suddenly I noticed my hands didn't hurt and I could knit without a break. Gratitude washed over me ( though I was more thankful when the movie ended). It's wonderful. My hands work. They were never pretty, just short and stubby fingers, a child's hands, but they do a good job of work, even now.
And my eyes are still fighting the good fight despite a degenerative eye disease. Thanks my body, thanks for your Rocky like determination.
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