What does gratitude look like after you learn you have an incurable disease?

It’s important to feel and process all those gloomy feelings, right? But when do you pick yourself up and find joy again? It took months for me to realize that despite no longer being the woman I had once been physically, I was still me, and I had so much to give. With time came acceptance, and with acceptance came gratitude. But the word gratitude had a brand-new meaning.

I had always considered myself to be a very grateful person, thankful for family, friends, food, the roof above our heads — the obvious things. But this new version of gratitude consumed me in the best way possible. Rather than wasting all of my energy on the so-called bad stuff, I’m working hard to focus on the good. Every morning I now tell myself, “Hey! Imagine the amazing possibilities that await you by simply getting out of bed!” Just six months ago I was dependent on a walker and wheelchair, and thanks to my amazing team of doctors and a lot of determination, I’m walking more independently again. What a gift it is to simply get out of bed without help, especially knowing it’s going to get a lot harder as the disease progresses. I tell myself it’s going to be a good day (hey, maybe it won’t be), but instead of clinging to the idea of what my life should have been or could have been before my disease onset, I focus on everything that brings me joy and has ever brought me joy. For example, every day I’m thankful for the parts of my body that continue to feel temperature and soft touch sensation. To still be able to feel my daughter’s warm hand in mine is something I cherish beyond words. Every smile, every hug, the breeze on my skin, the sun on my face are all to be celebrated because none of it is certain. I’ve realized that the only thing that is certain is that nothing is certain. Yeah, that sentence will make your head spin.