Happy belated Thanksgiving, everyone! As I settle back in after a trek to Washington DC to visit Hart’s grandpa, my gratitude for unexpected things abounds.
I had two pretty good days and was able to abort two headaches that promised to be nasty, including one on the flight back home. Grandpa’s house, which he and Hart’s grandma have lived and smoked heavily in for more than 35 years, didn’t make me too sick. One of the people who spent the weekend with us is a psychiatrist who let me pick her brain. That I met in person my friend Lisa, who I know through a headache forum and this blog.
These are the little things that can get lost in the busyness of life. Living with this disease has taught me that sometimes the smallest things mean the most. And, to use a cliche, that life is too short to ignore the goodness amidst the struggles. I am glad that I learned this when I was relatively young.
Someone I know who has chronic headache and is bipolar said that the only way she copes sometimes is by writing down what she is thankful for on every single day. Even when she can’t get out of bed, she recognizes the goodness that surrounds her. It’s terrific idea that I rarely execute. But I can pick it up any day.
I hope you all had Thanksgivings that were just as good or better than mine.
Forgive me if I’ve gone too Hallmark. I’ve been weepy during the two Thanksgivings since my mom’s brain aneurysm ruptured.