Living Out Loud, in Public, and in Gratitude

I’m not used to the whole world knowing what’s going on in our lives, but this O-Negative blood business has necessitated lifting my head, opening my eyes, un-pinching my nose, and engaging with the world out there. Writing this blog obligates me to stay positive, receptive and courageous. I refuse to become a black hole. Larry and I were raised with the saying “the hole that you give through is the hole that you get through.” So in the interest of widening channels, here are five things I’m grateful for right here, right now.

The IMSS staff with their impeccable grooming and crisp white uniforms. They are unfailingly polite and helpful. All I have to do is stick my head out the door and ask for help and they’re here. And this is a skeleton staff, as almost everyone has left for vacation.

The vendors outside who dispense not only tamales made with pineapple, strawberries, or green chilis and cheese, but also cups of liquid sweet avena (oatmeal) and atole in the mornings. And the vendors who sell jugos, fresh squeezed orange juice or jugo verde, a combination of orange juice, celery, apple, parsley, pineapple and a few nopalitos because anything with cactus leaves is interesting.

My hotel which for 100 pesos a night is so close by, spotlessly clean, painted a pretty color, and has a high definition flat screen television on the wall. I watch about a third of an English language movie a night before falling asleep. Oh, yeah, a good mattress, a ceiling fan, and motherly maid.

The fact that Larry has a bed by the window on the sixth floor. We have a panoramic view towards the soccer stadium, the plaza de toros, and the hills beyond. I brought opera glasses and gave them to Larry. “I see a Domino’s Pizza sign,” he said. He can also see my room from here.

The trees around the hospital and the medical campus that surrounds us. They’re huge, full of birds, and provide much needed shade for those waiting their turn to visit loved ones. They are full of birds, the names of which I would know if I were my mother-in-law. I’m not, but they sing sweetly for us anyway.

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