Life is soon put starkly into perspective when someone you love becomes threateningly ill. For all the bellyaching that we all do, ‘oh I’m so skint; oh why doesn’t he/she love me; oh I hate my job, oh this, oh that, oh the other,’ imagine if your partner, your parent, your child or yourself were suddenly diagnosed with a terminal illness, or the once healthy and vibrant Grandparent starts to show signs of frailty, of their own mortality. Abruptly your perspective changes. Those things that once consumed your every thought are now completely inconsequential.
I should interject that everything is relevant, this is true, and I am well known to have bellyached over the trivialities of life. However, it’s always worth reminding yourself that sometimes things go wrong – you lose your job, your home, your relationship – turmoil ensues, but to have your health is fortunate indeed.
If you are healthy you are spared the endless trips to the – nearly almost all useless – GPs; spared the blood tests, the hospital appointments, the apprehension of a forthcoming procedure and the agonising wait of test results; nor do you have to worry about unresolved aches and pains or of the regimental visits for hours sitting for an infusion of chemotherapy.
In short, to have your health is to have your freedom. It is the least anyone of us can ask for from life. It costs nothing and yet to lose it costs everything.