Sometimes, when you least expect it, life just throws something in front of you that opens your eyes and makes you reassess where you stand. This week has taught me more than any other this year. I guess because I had gotten so wound up in my own head about the whole work issue, crossing all the bridges before I had even come to them, that I didn't really see the bigger picture.
But having spent all of yesterday in the hospital with a very dear friend, my oldest friend of all, I have a whole new perspective on everything. Simply, you are nothing without your health. It doesn't matter how rich you are (mind you that helps, christ the NHS bureaucracy sucks - and the waiting, the endless waiting - I can totally see why private health care is appealing) or how thin you are, or if you have the best job in the world, without everything working as it should, well, you are stuffed.
Lots of folk around me haven't been having the easiest of times. I feel a bit helpless, only able to lend an ear, or a supportive shoulder when I can. Anyway, I watched my poor friend being so vulnerable, and my heart kind of broke and I would have given anything in the whole world to make her better. My stomach churned with the needles and the sympathetic nods, and the doctor speak and the endless poking and prodding. She was so brave through it all, it was very humbling.
And as the count down to ten years since the horror of 9/11 happened, my TV is filled with tales from that day - and all that has happened as a result of it - it has made me realise how lucky I am to be here, to be healthy, to have my family, to have my friends. How insignificant all the other stuff is. Reminds of the days I used to head home after a shift at Samaritans, so bloody grateful for all that I had. Being there made me grounded, made me appreciative.
So enough of my wingeing - life is short, it is for living. Fuck it, all I need is a job. And if that is all I have to worry about - then how freakin' lucky am I?