Gratitude is not a platitude

When I reflect on where I have been (in receipt of a terminal cancer diagnosis) and where I am now (cancer free) I am overwhelmed with gratitude. Often, when I walk or run, I literally count my blessings, so I thought I might share them. Note, they are in no particular order. They are listed as they came to mind.

I am thankful for...

1. My incredible Dad who was there for every appointment and felt my pain like it was his own
2. My husband who slept upright by my hospital bed on multiple occasions to be there when I woke
3. Friends who visited me from near and far
4. Those who baked delicious home-cooked food for me
5. The women doing the Race for Life who reached out and touched my hand as they passed
6. The woman who alerted the nurses when I had two fits in the middle of the night in hospital (and is sadly no longer with us)
7. Those who prayed for my recovery (and still pray for my health)
8. The friend who said she would rather have my cancer herself (and meant it)
9. The friend who flew over from the States to see me
10. The people who gave me a sympathetic or empathetic glance when I ventured outdoors
11. The friend who made me beautiful silk hats that I could attach hair pieces to, when I couldn't wear wigs as they exacerbated my migraines
12. The note to Dean from my Godson's little sister saying that he was doing quite a good job in looking after me
13. The oncologist who gave me outstanding care and guidance
14. The incredible woman who removed both my cancerous brain tumours with amazing skill and confidence
15. The supportive nurses in the neurological ward (in particular our amazing Christian friend)
16. The gifted breast surgeon who performed a faultless lumpectomy (after kicking a filing cabinet in anger after I had been sent the wrong letter about the time of my operation)
17. Uplifting messages on Facebook from friends and well-wishers
18. Friends of friends who celebrated when things were good and shared love and compassion when things were bad
19. My church friend who supported me from diagnosis right through to healing
20. The friend who bought me soft satin pillowcases to alleviate the soreness of the scars on the back of my head
21. School friends who visited or sent gifts
22. College friends who raised money for a sponsored room at Oxford 
23. Close college friends who supported me throughout the myriad challenges of cancer and all its debilitating side effects
24. Friends who sent beautiful flowers
25. My friend who sent vases when I ran out
26. Clients and former colleagues who wrote lovely letters and cards
27. Students I taught at the University who made me a card and sent me uplifting messages (after having freaked them out when I started speaking unintelligible nonsense during their work experience)
28. My fabulous neighbours in Spain who made us delicious Indian feasts
29. My Mum, who despite the horror of having another daughter critically ill, managed to come to see me at the hospital
30. The lovely curate (my age) who I briefed on my funeral requirements and insisted he would be too old to take the service and would probably have retired by then
31. Friends who met my every need with thoughtful gifts such as audio books or box sets
32. My Yes Agency colleagues who organised a fantastic 'pre-funeral funeral' when I had only months to live
33. My former business partner and friend who was steadfast in his support and helped me back into work gradually
34. Those who cried for me when they thought that all was lost
35. Those who were sure that all was not lost and would not believe otherwise
36. The friend who sent me comedy books for each treatment that had me laughing out loud at deeply inappropriate times
37. The fellow cancer sufferers who are walking the walk and share the ups and downs
38. Cancer survivors who offered hope and advice
39. My former headmaster who came to my Mum's funeral and called regularly to see how I was doing
40. The people who pretended not to notice my enormous steroid-induced head when I was brave enough to be out in public
41. The kindness of strangers (which at times brought me to tears)
42. My in-laws who provided much-needed support for me and for Dean
43. My lovely chemo friend and fellow-blogger who has been with me on this cancer 'journey'
44. The family friends who supported me and my parents despite suffering themselves
45. The people who travelled from all over the country to join me at a church service
46. Those who have died but who have left an indelible imprint on my heart
47. Friends who continue to face cancer but selflessly shared in my good news
48. The woman in the bed opposite me who came over to hold my hand when I was told that my cancer had returned without my Dad or Dean there to support me
49. My former colleagues, now friends who brought me laughter and a good gossip
50. A huge box of chocolates (and I mean a box of many boxes of chocolates for me, or was it for Dean?)
51. The support of a bright and bubbly Dougie Mac palliative care nurse who has since been diagnosed with cancer herself but is thankfully well
52. Friends from all aspects of my life who came to see me, walk with me, make me smile and tell me about normal stuff
53. People from my church who came to take communion with me when I was too ill to attend services
54. The lovely old chaps who shout encouragement to me when I run (slowly) past them in my morning run *jog*
55. The delightful congregation of a local church made up of refugees and asylum seekers who celebrated my healing story with absolute joy
56. My extended family who supported me and my Dad through a very difficult time
57. The friends of my parents who have supported him practically, emotionally and spiritually through their own troubles
58. My incredible friends (the family I chose for myself) who have been there through thick and thin
59. My wonderful husband for whom 'in sickness and in health' was a promise he kept faithfully (but is now looking forward to the 'health' part)
60. The awesome God who saved me despite my complete unworthiness

I really could continue this list until the light fades (literally not metaphorically) so I guess you get the idea. I am supremely grateful to everyone whose love, friendship, support, guidance, prayers and medical skills mean that I am here today. My heartfelt thanks goes out to you all.

Amanda