A few weeks ago I was walking down a packed Melbourne shopping street dodging the many sharp-cornered bags coming at me, when my face unexpectedly erupted into a full face-cry.

Taken aback, I initially suspected it might be joy-grief at feeling normal for the first time in many months.

Of being out and about without being exhausted. Of not needing to flinch at the noises jabbing at my (not currently present) daily migraine.

But then I realised it was actually this guy’s fault.

Soaring Ed Sheeran* violin on the side of the road, who wouldn’t cry?

Everyone except me, it turned out.

As I sat and enjoyed the emotions sweeping through me,

a lady walked past with a tiny reindeer headband on and I cried some more.

I’ve half written a couple of supremely average blog posts that won’t be published about my journey with long covid (🌶️😷), but since my brain has been too foggy to write or edit (or do anything much) properly, I’ve done a great deal of staring at the ceiling instead.

I even had some long time readers get in touch to see if I’m ok and tell me they’re missing the weekly (or ten-ish) blog posts! Thank you, you excellent humans.

Chronic health stuff is not the most fun I’ve ever had, I’ll tell you that much for free (or maybe I’ll charge a fee for that, since I haven’t been able to work for months…)

But do you know what absolute beauty has come of feeling like my head was shoved in a bag of potatoes for the last six months??

Gratitude for things I normally take for absolute granted.

Like, how epic is it to wake up and not have a migraine?!

Like being able to sit at my computer and do actual work without it sending me into a spiral of exhaustion which ends with me lying in bed the rest of the day.

Like catching up with friends and feeling energetic and joyful again!

Like being able to eat normal food without fear it will elicit a histamine response.

Like going for a run with Bloody Good Bloke (at 1/16th of his usual pace) for the first time in half a year and slightly dying after 800m, but still feeling so excited to have run so far!

To have a functioning body is such an incredible privilege.

I really hope I can remember to be grateful for this every (most… some) day(s) for the rest of my life.

You really don’t know what you’ve got til it’s gone

I’ve come to a new level of understanding of what people with chronic health issues go through. It bloody sucks, and no one really gets it. If that’s you, my heart goes out to you.

One of the many doctors I’ve seen over the last year and a half shared this quote with me recently:

“A healthy person has a thousand wishes, a sick person only one.” — Agnes Karll

Yep.

I’ve also realised (not for the first time) a serious error I’ve continued to make for 97.6% of my life:

Being a bit of a bastard to my body. Even when she’s working perfectly.

I’ve been particularly pissed off with her over the recent appearance of a double chin and the extra 10kgs I’ve inherited from 1.5 years of lying down a great deal and eating vast quantities of potatoes.

Yet this whole time, my body has been working away day and night, repairing things, patching up problems, keeping me going.

I’ve never been so grateful for a healthy, functioning body and brain as I am right now, having had a few weeks of good energy and mostly good health.

Right this moment, your body is doing trillions of thingos and something-or-others just to keep you breathing.

I hope you’ll take a moment with me to say “Cheers maaate!” to this hard working legend of a body of ours.

Full face crying with joy is also an option.

As my mate Thich Nhat Hanh once said —

“When we’re having a toothache, we know that not having a toothache is a wonderful thing. Yet when we don’t have a toothache, we’re still not happy. A non-toothache is very pleasant.”

If you feel pretty ok today, if you don’t have a migraine, or debilitating fatigue, or chronic pain, if you have energy to put a new bin bag in the bin without feeling like you’re climbing Kilimanjaro —

Hallelujah amen!

Just sit for a second and feel how good that feels.

May angels abseil from the sky daily to notify us of how bloody lucky we are to be alive and wellish.

Moments after writing this blog post I’ve already forgotten.