How does one say thank you each and every day of one’s life?

I feel as I travel through each day weaving in and out of people’s lives, their stories, their suffering, and their blessings – and I am surrounded, cushioned, almost held by an infinite amount of energy keeping me alive.

I feel an abundant amount of energy surrounding me all the time but then the most heartfelt feeling is I also receive it by kindness and generosity by smiles, sweet messages of friendship and love, a bottle of water, a blanket, muffins, juice in the fridge at all times, texts asking how I am feeling – not doing, but feeling, big difference.

A couple stories keep cycling in my head – one lately and one from a long time ago.

Lately – The first cold snap of the year and I made my way to my car after work. I coughed kind of like a punch, and I felt it.  Blood. Damn it.

The problem with this is that it doesn’t come like a controlled episode, but it then wants to get out, like waves in an ocean trying to get onto land.

I cannot stop it and it just keeps coming.  My lungs gurgle like when one gurgles to clean your throat.  An explosion.  Bright red, alive, viscous, and – violent.

Between explosions, trying to get a grip, I text Sheila.  I have had 3 vitamin K used to clot my blood, and I believe it is simmering, but really unsure.  I am out of water and I don’t normally take pills without water and I feel at this moment it isn’t the best time to try.  Choking on top of this is something I want to avoid.

She calls my work place, since I am right outside of it, and asks if my friend could bring me out a bottle of water.  She doesn’t say why but that I need some water and I am unable to come inside.

I didn’t want to go back inside to jolt my lungs with the cold.  I had visions of running to the trash and vomiting blood and the whole scene seemed distasteful and full of drama.

I was just doing my usual trying to calm the fuck down. Settle my diaphragm and settle the eruption inside.

Nine months pregnant, my friend comes and gives me a bottle of water.  Later she tells me I didn’t look very good.  I am sure I didn’t, while I was still trying to remain composed.

I wrap up my bag of bloody tissues and tell her I have a little problem. I take a couple more Vitamin K, a little shaky, and she sits and talks to me in the car.  Just sits and talks and makes sure I am okay.  During this time, my lungs settle and I don’t cough up any more blood.  After almost 30 minutes go by, I say I think I am good.  I am an hour into this ordeal now.

She double checks to make certain.  I drive her to her car and thankfully that was it for the night.

Something so small as a bottle water is so large in my eyes.  And then just being with another – for no other real reasons except to make sure, make sure one is okay – goose bumps.

Second story –

I believe I was 23 or 24 years old at the time.  My brother may remember more clearly.

I decided to go over and visit him.  I get into my car and I begin to pull away, and I begin to drive, and then I must have twitched or made a sudden small movement and my right kneecap slides out of place and is stuck to the lateral side of my leg. How far – unclear, but it isn’t in the right place.

I take my left foot and somehow pull over, kind of sideways, and place it in park. I try and jolt my right leg but the kneecap is stuck.

The numerous, around 50 times when my kneecap has slid out of place, it is always a quick, short, but still full of pain motion. I have fallen downstairs a few times. When jumping in gym class, smash there I go again.  Jumping off bleachers, bang. Getting slightly bumped in the hallways, snap and I fall backwards.  Sometimes I am caught, usually it happens so fast for people and gravity is as fast as it is, I hit.  Playing, running in gym – smash.

When I was 14 it was happening so frequently I was put in modified gym for the year.  I have had many X-rays, but really it was my tendon, and after that healed, my weakened muscles, apparently.  Knee exercises upon knee exercises.  I never saw an orthopedic specialist until adulthood though, just a general practitioner.

Within a couple minutes of my knee stuck out of place, a police car shines its lights on me from across the intersection.  I fling open the door and yell for help.

I tell them in my most polite but desperate voice that my knee is stuck.  They come over to make certain that is the case and they call an EMT.

My knee felt like a corkscrew was trying to drive itself through my bone.  I am getting shocks of pain up and down my leg.  Sweat, tears, and now full-blown swearing.  I was trying to keep the swearing to a minimum but my leg started to feel numb between the shocks of pain up and down my leg.

The officers were very nice.  They called my brother for me, and I believe most of what I said were swear words to my brother.  I was a half mile from the nearest hospital and it was taking the EMTs way too long to get to me.  But, I am not full of blood, so I am a minor call.

Twenty minutes pass – and I am quite numb. By thirty minutes, I cannot feel my leg.  I am almost into the back seat.  I am trying to twitch and move in such a way to click it back into place – no luck.

I am afraid to touch it, because happens if the pain becomes worse?  Now at this moment I couldn’t imagine the pain being worse than it was – but happens if it is?  Then what?

My shirt is sopping and I can’t feel my leg – and then the most beautiful man shows up. I think he was gay.

He was very strong with a huge muscular chest, and I grab his shirt collar – like a lost child, sick or weakened woman – because I was.  I remember clearly saying, “I don’t care what you to do, just have put it back into place, please.”

Now the new threat – how painful is this going to be?

He said something to the fact, “Everything is going to be okay.”

Sure.

He just so gently takes my kneecap and slides it into place.  He just moves it with his hand, like nothing.

But, then I thought if I tried to lean over with my jolt of pain up and down my leg – would have it been so smooth?  I think not.

The gate opens and a rush of circulation streams into my leg and – release.  My leg starts to have feeling right away and after a few minutes seems almost fit to stand.

Then the sweet man tells me I need to bend it and keep moving it around otherwise it is going to stiffen.  I am hesitant to do a thing, but he bends it up and back down again and my kneecap stays in place.

They help me out of the car and put me in a sling of sorts and off I go in the ambulance. The police officer said he would straighten out my car and deliver the keys to the hospital.  My brother and his friend meet me there later.

I think back to that day and how the sweet man allowed me to grab his shirt aggressively and yet he was so kind.  He was so gentle and kind sliding over my kneecap – I think he even called me “Honey.”

How thankful I am the police car appeared and how at that moment I was so happy for that bright light to shine right on me.

Being held and almost embraced by the energy around me.

There are too many kindnesses to count.  But I do remember them, hold onto them, and I believe that is how one begins to say “thank you” in return.

I pause –

I pause as much as I have to, as many times as I need to.

And I will continue to pause, because sure as hell I will need to say many more thank you’s in my future.

For ever more I say thank you, truly.  I am nothing without anyone of you.