Darn You, Universe

Just as I was gearing up for a mega-grumpy-poor-me-why-does-everything-have-to-suck-so-much sort of an evening, the work day up and taught me a few lessons in you-better-be-thankful-for-what-you-got.

1. A nineteen year-old kid who has been wheelchair bound essentially his entire life. He wears coke-bottle glasses and has had multiple surgeries on his back, both legs/ankles, and both arms/wrists, which have hardly made a dent in correcting his severe contractures. Yet, he enters our office with a cheerful grin offering praises for the convenient size of our building's elevator in relation to his electric wheelchair. He and his mother are a loud talking, tag-team of positivity, despite the near constant pain that he experiences in multiple parts of his body.

2. A pair of 2-year old identical twins. One of them is our patient with just a minor repair to a couple of webbed fingers. The family has been an absolute model of compliance and effective communication between patient and surgeon. The kids (only 2 years old, don't forget) already understand how to use please/thank you (nice job mom and dad!) and, they never forget to shout a cheerful goodbye, always in unison. But, boy howdy, are they energetic guys!

3. A 71-year old gorgeous woman (I'm talking jaw-dropping beautiful), who came in for an arthritic finger, shared with me that she's a four-year survivor of pancreatic cancer. In case you don't already know know, the one-year survival rate for this cancer is only 20% and falls to something like 4% within five years. Anyway, this woman is bright eyed, tanned with a sassy, gray haircut and has one seriously amazing 71-year old butt. She tells me that she's planning a bike trip in Minnesota in September and that she's a runner and a knitter, among other things I'm sure. She'll plan her finger surgery around her many adventures.

4. A 67-year old cutie pie of a woman with severe osteo and rheumatoid arthritis comes wobbling in, determined to walk on her own two legs, supported by her husband and a cane. Her outfit is accssorized with homemade jewelry; she's cracking jokes, just as sweet as can be. The reason she's visiting us is to figure out what she can do with her hands so that she can continue playing golf. Golf! She can't walk on her own but she's an athlete nonetheless.

5. The husband and his summer kids knock on my office door around 2:30pm. I open to find them all dressed up like zombies: shredded hoodies, face paint, giant tombstones, one of the kids inside a cardboard coffin. Are you kidding me?! How am I supposed to stay grumpy with a crew like that standing in my doorway making my sides hurt with light and laughter?

Today's lessons in being grateful for what you've got brought to you by Little Miss Humble Pie.