Chronic illness stinks, but I still opt for gratitude

I woke up this morning and realized:

Yesterday was the first day in months during which I hadn’t needed any* pain medication!

Bottle of pain pillsToday, then, it is perhaps “too easy” for me to write about living with a sense of gratitude in spite of the burdens of chronic illness.

You might assume I’m just having a great day, or that I’m naturally perky.

It is fair to describe me as fundamentally optimistic, but perky? Not so much. I’m decidedly prone to uncontrollable outbursts of snark and cynical enough to doubt the motivations of others.

This “less pain” holiday certainly does, however, make it easier for me to reflect upon the gifts I’ve gained from living with chronic illness.

Most importantly, my pain and physical limitations have made me more empathetic. I’m a better person for the suffering. That’s something, anyway!

I am now more likely to give someone else the benefit of the doubt in frustrating situations. I have more patience for slow movers and “inconvenient” people in my way. I’m far more generous with my tolerance.

Pain is also teaching me to have patience with myself. This is true not just when I need physical accommodations like using the buttons to open powered doors or taking the handicapped stall lest I find myself perched and suddenly realize the knees won’t raise me back up without an assist from a sturdy grab bar.

Bathroom fitted with accommodations for physical disabilitiesGiving myself permission to make use of aids for physical disability also seems to rub off on those nasty tendencies toward negative self talk that can be so undermining to one’s psyche. If I’m worth accommodating when my body fails me, why, suddenly, I can forgive myself for a day’s lapse in will power or my other myriad and sundry imperfections.

I wouldn’t wish a life interrupted by chronic pain or ongoing illness on anyone. Then again, I wouldn’t change anything about my own history if a genie popped out of a lamp and gave me the option.

I’m grateful for the life I have, warts and all. It would be wonderful to find a cure for what ails me, but I’m thankful for the lessons from the illness in the meantime.

Wall art stating “Give thanks”Being sick is beyond my control. Choosing to live my life with gratitude is up to me.

*With the exception of the topical prescription NSAID that eases my most finicky—and much used!—joints in the fingers and wrists, I suppose I should add. A day completely without pain is, sadly, no longer something I ever seem to have.

I’ve had such frustrations with the side effects of opioids and the synthetic alternatives that I have a truly love-hate relationship with them. Taking these pills does make the pain a little more bearable on a bad day, but nothing actually stops it completely when it is bad. Oh yes, and then the drugs screw up my sleep which can create its own vicious circle because fatigue increases my pain!

There is lots of room for improvement in medication for the management of chronic pain.

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