You’re only human

I pride myself on being pretty positive most of the time. You can rarely catch me at a pity party or “woe is me-ing” to others. It doesn’t suit me nor do I find it productive or life affirming. However, my recent bout with Covid changed all that. At least it drove me to the dark side, albeit temporarily. About mid-way through the virus I was experiencing a severe cough (deep into my lungs which was frightening because I have asthma and compromising my lungs in any way is scary) and developed a bad case of nausea, not vomiting, just feeling sick to my stomach 24 hours a day. After my 10 days of self-isolation, my family came up from Southern California to spend a week with us. It was right before Christmas. What lousy timing, right? It seems I always get some kind of bug around this time of year. Maybe it’s stress related due to the long “to do” list I give myself every year. Regardless, this year was especially bad because I got the dreaded Covid virus.

In June my husband and I got the J&J vaccine, one and done. It was the only way he wanted to go, i.e., just one shot. I agreed so we did it. Thinking it would bring us more freedom (which it did for about a week then restrictions changed to include vaccinated folks as well as unvaccinated), we took the plunge. I have to say, however, that while I was suffering with the virus, I was VERY glad that we both got the shot. Being older and having an underlying condition I can well imagine what might have happened had we not gotten vaccinated. I would have more than likely ended up in the hospital and perhaps on a ventilator, over Christmas!

Okay, this is not an ad for the vaccines, although I do believe in them. My point today is to tell you I found myself smack dab in the middle of a pity party, complaining to anyone who would listen. Even while I was doing it I felt uncomfortable. That is not who I am, but there I was, bemoaning my fate. Shortly after I answered a text asking how I was feeling (boy did they get an earful!) I was looking online and found stories of children dying of cancer and hospitalized adults with Covid. In other words, people much worse off than me. I felt ashamed and quickly vowed to never complain again. Of course that’s not very realistic. It will happen again. We do that, we humans. We fall into the pit of sorrows. We rage over our circumstances. We lose our perspective. We forget there are others much worse off than we are. It reminds me of the parable of the man who complained he had no shoes until he met a man who had no feet.

It also brings to mind when my mother was in the hospital after losing her third child who was born dead. I was three years old at the time. My sister was 11. As you can imagine, my mother was devasted, almost lost her mind over it. Understandable. Until she met a woman in the same hospital who had previously lost a child and was about to lose her remaining child who was dying in the hospital. In addition to that, she could no longer have children. It was that woman’s story that brought back my mother’s perspective. She had two healthy daughters at home. She was going to be fine. Perspective is everything.

So next time you find yourself complaining about your life, pause and think about what your life is really like. Count your blessings. (That’s the fastest way to feel better.) But don’t condemn yourself for it. We are not perfect, never will be. We are flawed. We screw up. We do stupid things and then have to pay the consequences. Hopefully we learn from them. Be aware the next time you find yourself bitching and moaning. Stop for a second and take a hard look at your life. Make changes where called for. And give yourself grace. It’s okay. Move on. Until the next time you catch yourself at a pity party. Just don’t be the last one to leave. Go home and remember your blessings.  God bless.