Over the last couple of days I caught a cold and felt really miserable. I’m not fully over it yet, but I have medicine and the worst is over. That’s all.

In perspective, it’s nothing. Given all I’ve been through, it’s easy to be optimistic. After all those nights spent imprisoned in the hospital, now I know how wonderful it is just to be able to wave my arm without something (or several somethings) plugged into it, and to walk around without dragging a gargantuan IV behind me. I don’t think about this often, but when I remind myself of it, it resonates. I remember living for nothing more than the day I could get rid of all the hospital gear, get home, and start feeling normal again.

Now I guess it’s pretty nice just to be able to breathe through my nose, too. This certainly wasn’t my first cold where I felt that sense of desperation, though. Perspective changes so much about the world.


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