“Count your many blessings, name them one by one…” Grandma used to sing years ago when we would complain about nonsense. She was a little tough sometimes my Grandma, and maybe that’s where I got it from. But, many times she was right, whether we listened or not. (Maybe that’s where I got that from too? ;-))
I like numbers. They are logical. They are what they are. In a world that often makes no sense at all, I find order in numbers.
Except sometimes I’m faced with the question of what to do when numbers become overwhelming in and of themselves.
This marks the 400th post on this blog. While it’s by no means a masterpiece, when I sometimes poke through old posts I remember so much of where we’ve been. It’s a definite roadmap of our journey, and Meghan and I take great pleasure when people from around the world reach out to us and cite the blog as a source of comfort and strength.
Cowden’s Syndrome is rare enough that it can be a lonely diagnosis. Being able to reach people the world over has been a victory for us, and them.
With over 170,000 hits on various posts I know we are getting the word out. Slowly.
I might have wanted to celebrate this post. I might have wanted to make it really special. But, I’m counting something else today.
Today was the 17th time I’ve gotten off the phone with the nurse, giving me pre-operative directions for my daughter. Today, I listened as I always do, reciting the directions in my mind before she spoke. Really my only interest was the time. The rest is routine. I want to stop counting. I want to just go with it. I can’t give you an exact count on mine anymore – because once you’re a mom, well, you just focus more on what’s important. And you become less important. And that is a gift, denied to many, cherished and appreciated.
Somehow though, if I stop counting for her, it makes her struggle feel less valid. The numbers give her strength. A badge of courage. Something concrete in this world of abstract.
My post last night was about “Patience”
And as I poked around the blog this morning I was taken back years, through so many similar posts.
Their similarities are uncanny. I guess the story doesn’t change much. Hurry up, wait, surgery, wait, recovery, wait, follow up, wait…
So I’ll leave this 400th post as unremarkable. Nothing has changed. Nothing will change. And that’s the precise reason we keep counting, and keep telling our story.
Tomorrow, surgery number 17. 9:15 arrival. As usual, prayers always appreciated.