It is Thanksgiving Day, so of course, I have to write about giving thanks. Early this morning, when my husband was still snoozing, I was thinking about what to write. I thought about how comfortable I was, lying in my nice, warm bed, safe from intruders and sheltered from the rain and chill. No war is raging outside, no cockroaches or scorpions are running around on my floor. In my closet, I have more choices than I need in clothing, my kitchen is well stocked with a good variety of foods.
My family members all get along with each other, my kitten lets me pet her, if she isn't in the mood to wrestle. My husband supports me, financially and emotionally. I know I am loved by him, by my two step sons, my siblings, and the above mentioned kitten. I have extended 'family' in my temple, and the respect of my colleagues at work and in my Sjogren's Support Group.
I can afford the medications I need to help my body produce tears and saliva. My pain is adequately controlled so that I don't have constant pain, and I only get fatigued if I do too much at once.
I got out of bed, turned on the light, and started the shower: we are not at risk of our utilities being shut off. I did my morning self care routines and got dressed, all independently. I made breakfast, and ate it watching the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade on TV. I played with my kitten, picked up my laptop computer, and started to write. Not only do I have my own computer with ready internet access, but I can read and write, which require a combination of cognitive ability, adequate vision, and education. I can do art on my computer, and in my studio, which is right next door to my apartment. I can afford to buy the supplies I need/want to do my art, and the talent to create in a variety of media. I have enough strength and energy to do my art, to work at the hospital when they need me, and still have some left over to take care of myself and my small apartment.
And that is just the beginning of the things for which I am thankful.