Getting Better

I am beginning to feel like a zoo animal.

People driving past my glass door, waving and leaving me food. That sounds ungrateful and I am not. I am SO grateful to have a life filled with friends who care and take care of me. The food has been delicious and healing and life affirming. Neighbors have continued to walk the dogs and other friends take me for appointments until my strength is back up to full speed.

It appears that I managed to get pneumonia. I prefer to think it is walking pneumonia as that is a “young persons” version, but it certainly has been some form. Most likely I had the flu in Scotland, followed by a persistent cough and chest congestion that morphed into unhappy lungs. I do not remember the last time I was this sick but am grateful for antibiotics and steroids at this point. I am on the mend.

Being unable to leave the house and having no energy to do pretty much anything gives you a lot of time for self-reflection.  I can hear the “oh no’s” coming from many directions. “Not more of those!”

I have a much greater appreciation for the ability to breathe deeply. Also, there is a heightened awareness of breathing which I believe we all take a bit too casually.  You truly do not notice until you can actually breathe again.

It was also interesting to be this down for the count at Thanksgiving because it is usually a time for friends and family. This year it was some soup from a friend and two dogs. It made me think about the holiday in general. So many people feel forced to spend time with family and dread the entire process. Others rejoice in the chance to be together. I spent a lot of time being grateful for the love that surrounds me and the wonderful life I have been afforded. And I was grateful to be alone and be content with it.

On Thanksgiving night one of my dearest friends, Danton Thompson, died. He had been struggling with esophageal cancer for 18 months. It was a long, painful, exhausting, and frustrating journey through today’s medical world. The misinformation and lack of interest from many professionals coupled with the constantly changing “opinions” was difficult to watch, but he kept trying until he could no longer. We have been friends since we were 19 and have shared a life of laughter, adventures, and love. He was one of the kindest humans I have ever known. Willing to forgive the too many slights and slings and arrows fired at him by those that should have loved him. It was a good example of how to live.  It came on the heels of losing my favorite cousin, Fred Hills, 13 days before. Fred was the oldest surviving grandchild on my mother’s side and was a funny, smart, sarcastic, and wry human being. He was graced with nearly 93 years here, so it was a good run. I will miss the phone calls and his wicked laugh.

Rather than be sad, I spent my time remembering all the amazing moments with them both. It brought far more laughter and smiles than it did tears. It reminded me to find gratitude in each moment and to connect and enjoy those I love while I still have the chance. I am so lucky to have my pod of characters and friends that bring light and joy to my world.

Here’s to getting better, taking a deep breath, and seeing what comes next.