Here I am one month post-surgery, recovering steadily, and thankful that I can share that news. Has it ever been an exciting ride! And I am so thankful for my situation.

You may think gratitude is an odd response to a painful and debilitating episode in my life, but that’s just how I’m wired: I actively look for the lessons in challenging circumstances and give thanks for them. And, wow, did I get to learn a few this time!

Ask for assistance and accept it. When I operate under the assumption that I can handle all life’s challenges on my own, I do myself no favors! I learned to let others contribute to my successful outcome and to ask for whatever is not specifically being offered that will also assist me.

“Pride goeth before the fall” is adapted from the Book of Proverbs. Pride has no role in my return to full health and function. No matter how potentially embarrassing it may seem, success depends on my ‘full disclosure’, time and time again. There is likely nothing I can share that my kind caregivers haven’t heard or seen before.

Patience, pacing and peace help my pursuit of purpose. With whom am I most impatient in this life? That’s right—with me! Now is the time to be extra kind, extra understanding, extra methodical and extra calm to give myself the healthy space I need to be well again. I learn this lesson, again and again. My brother gave me some very wise words to live by: “Do a little a lot, not a lot a little.”

New friends are found everywhere. I am so amazed at the number of people I met while in hospital and the generosity of their sharing. Again and again, interesting people cared to know me and enjoy the time we had together, however colored by our various roles as patients and caregivers. By reaching out, I reap the rewards.

Humor is the very best medicine. Even (and especially) under painfully adverse circumstances, I found something to laugh about. And it helped. Just try to laugh without cheering up a bit—it’s impossible! When things seem to be at their ‘rock-bottom’ worst, I find the humorous slant. Then I laugh. The future looks brighter through laughing eyes.

Perspective (and therefore experience) is my choice. Somehow, with rare exceptions, I am able to distinguish the role of choice in my reaction to whatever comes up. How I choose to deal with the things I am dealt—and being able to distinguish that I am actively choosing—is the essence of dignity in any situation.

These few lessons can be applied to any situation, and I intend to take them out into the great wide world of my work and personal life and apply them generously. Perhaps you can use them too.

All the best!

Julie Nierenberg