Attitude of Gratitude

My first wake-up call today is the soft paw of Panther (our cat) on my cheek, accompanied by his rather loud "Nee-OW," which of course is referring to the moment in which he thinks he must get his breakfast. I assume that since my 6am cell phone alarm has not rung, then it must not yet be 6am. So it must not yet be time for Panther's breakfast. He has this habit of trying to weasle his breakfast out of his sleeping mistress at first light--recently, around 5:40am.

Instead of getting up, I grab Panther around his middle, hold him against my front like a stuffed animal, and start scratching him under his chin. His purr immediately becomes palpable against my chest. He settles in for a few minutes, and I guess I doze off, because the next thing I know, there's a paw in my face again, with another announcement of the time: "Nee-OW."

This time, I push him down toward my legs and start moving them back and forth, like I'm walking in my sleep. This sends him jumping off the bed. For 5 seconds. Then I hear him pounce back up, and I brace myself for another face rub. Instead, I hear my husband behind me let out a little grunt, and I know that Panther has launched his secondary attack plan. I am the morning feeder, and Panther knows it. When he starts trying to wake up my husband, I know he must be hungry. So I reach over and check the time on my phone: 5:45am. "Man!" I whisper, "okay, I'll get you food." Fifteen minutes is not worth battling wills with the cat, especially now that he's involving the innocent third party!

...

I climb back into bed, reset my alarm, and feel my feet begin to get warm again.
At 7am, my cell phone alarm goes off; I turn it off, and immediately roll over and tell my husband how much I don't want to go to work today. Then I remember that today is Thanksgiving Day. So in the next breath, I say, "Happy Thanksgiving!"
He replies, "Happy Thanksgiving to you!"

In that moment, God allows me to have an attitude adjustment.
"I'm very grateful that I have a job," I say to my husband. "So it's really okay that I'm going to work today."
"Oh, that's good," he says.

...

As I make my way from the parking deck to the hospital, I pass many nurses going in the opposite direction, just finished with their night shift. I pass my old roommate, who's listening to her voice messages on her cell phone, her glasses shielding--but not hiding--tired eyes. She flashes me a smile as we pass and calls out, "Happy Thanksgiving!"
I wonder if she's driving home to the coast today to be with her family. And I am suddenly grateful that I never have to work a shift overnight; that I'm not going home right now, exhausted and ready for bed, perhaps with a turkey in the refrigerator waiting to be cooked, perhaps with a long car drive ahead with bleary eyes and a weary body to see family. I'm grateful that I never have to start my workday at 7pm, but then start my day off at 8am.

...

I pass a lot of kitchen staff today at work. All of the patients' trays have a paper placemat on the bottom with a festive image of a cornucopia; they're serving turkey today for lunch, with green beans and mashed potatoes, yams, and cherry cobbler. I think about the patients in the hospital that have just switched from I.V. fluids to clear broth.... They won't be getting Thanksgiving dinner today. I look at the cafeteria workers, and I recall why I chose to go back to school to be a physical therapist. My mind flashes back to any year, Thanksgiving Day, 3pm, filling ice buckets and polishing wine glasses, moving tables, passing hors d'oeuvres and making cocktails, running my tail off all night to fetch extra gravy or make a cappucino...and then later, kicking back at midnight with the rest of the staff for a cold beer and some leftover turkey goodness from the restaurant kitchen. After that respite, then it was time to grab our stacks of cloth napkins (just up from the laundry) and the trays of clean silverware, and start rolling sets for the morning. No, I don't miss it. It was a great time in my life, but not for those busy holiday shifts. I'm glad it's over. I'm grateful that my job now is to spend time with individuals and their families, helping them recovery from illnesses, procedures, or accidents so that they can go home.

My husband pages me around 12:30pm and we plan to meet at 1pm for lunch. My co-worker has given me her holiday "free meal" pass for him to use, so we both get turkey dinner from the hospital cafeteria line.
We agree that it is the absolute worst "turkey dinner" that either of us has ever eaten. But I'm so grateful that we work so close to one another, that sometimes I get to see him during the workday, that he's sitting here with me today on a bench in front of the hospital. It's a beautiful day and we're sitting in the sunshine; I'm laughing at his imitation of the dog this morning, who apparently whined and yelped in distress at the change of morning routine, until my husband finally took him for a walk at 8:30am.

We're not with either of our families this Thanksgiving, but we're together, and these are the beginnings of our own family. I'm grateful that we don't have children waiting at home for us while we both go to work today. I know that there must be families who have to deal with that today.

It's a busy work day. I'm supposed to work until 4:30pm. I finish seeing my last patient at 7pm. But I'm grateful that I don't have a room assigned to me here. I'm neither a patient, a patient's family member, or a resident on-call for the night.

I get to go home. With my unborn child, who's been bravely reminding me of his/her presence all day. To my "family"-- my husband, my dog, and my cat. To leftover beef chili. To plan my first turkey dinner tomorrow.

I am so grateful.