When pain wakes me up and I can't get back to sleep I give thanks I've taken to getting up to fetch a Roobosch tea and bit of toast or biscuits. It helps me feel more in control and sometimes to settle down again. I give thanks I always go and look out of the window at the quiet town with the traffic lights set at green and the Belisha Beacons blinking - it fascinates me. I'm usually extra stiff and clumsy when I first get out of bed and after my initial dismay at failing to put a newly filled water jug back upright on the counter so that it fell on its side and disgorged the contents, I gave thanks while I was groaning on my knees with a damp towel I could wipe the mucky floor!
I give thanks for Pat Holloway, a good friend I never got to meet. When we first started talking she was well and I was ill but then I got better and she got worse, and before she died she sent me a little beanbag for resting a book or tablet on which I find particularly useful now as my left hand can't do much holding. I can wedge it behind my head or shoulders too.
I give thanks for making it through another session, same length but a more ferocious treatment. Maybe that's why I'm so tired, or maybe it's because I was up so long in the night. I give thanks the taxi driver on the way home was not at all chatty, unlike the others I've had and I could just gaze out of the window. For the rainbows. For a Status Quo track in the radio reminding me once I was young
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