I've read many inspirational stories written by women who overcame tremendous obstacles, including life with a chronic illness. It always seemed that by the end of her story, each woman had maintained that her illness was the best thing that ever happened to her. That it had inspired personal growth unsurpassed by any other event prior to or since.
My veggie smoothie-making fiancé jokes that I've one-upped him in the health department. That I've never been so conscientious and strong. And in many respects, that's true. Before being diagnosed with Type 1 diabetes, I'm fairly certain I never went a day without added sugar. And I couldn't help but get stronger. Now that my cells were being nourished, I had the energy to run and lift weights. In the beginning, it seemed that each time I worked out, I'd burst into our apartment afterwards with a grin on my face and a personal best to report to M. I felt so *good.*
But I'll never say that diabetes was the best thing that ever happened to me. Many days I get through without a hitch. Others I'm chasing a low. Or nervously awaiting the outcome of a meal whose carb content I had no basis for even estimating. Some days I'm dealing with a malfunctioning pump. Or a glucose monitor that routinely overestimates my blood sugar, or, worse, completely misses a low.
Yes, I'd rather feel as good as I do now than as poorly as I did the year prior to my diagnosis. But not having diabetes would be better.
How did you get into a place of gratitude?