By Laura Spiegel

The other day, I heard the old Rosemary Clooney song “Counting Your Blessings” in the car.  Usually when I hear this song, my mind flits to Ms. Clooney’s uber-handsome offspring, whom I admire for a moment until I get bored and change the station.  But this time, I stayed the course and listened to the full song.  For those who aren’t holiday music aficionados, this oldie but goodie encourages those who are sleep-challenged to count not sheep, but our blessings.

Could there be something to this?   

Like many families of kiddos with cystic fibrosis, our days are often hectic and harried.  They are filled with vest treatments, oodles of enzymes, antibiotic bottles the size of 2-liters, endless pots of nebulizer soup, insane amounts of hand washing, and well, just life.  School shuttles, sports practices, homework, playdates, emails, and a never-ending pile of meal-making and dishes.  Seriously, why are there so many dishes? 

But amidst all of this, I have to stop and remind myself that we are truly blessed.  We do not live in a war zone.  Terrorism has (knock on wood) not hit our community.  We have enough food to fill our bellies, and we have access to quality, first-world health care.  In the grand scheme of things, our lives are really, really good.  And so, here’s to my first annual Christmas list of blessings counted.

1.      Close family – When my husband and I first moved to Indiana, our families were hundreds of miles away.  Now, nearly everyone is here or en route to being here permanently.  This is a God-send when it comes to quick, economical babysitting; someone willing to whisk the kids away when I’m sick myself; and so much more.

2.      First world health care – I can’t even imagine what life would be like if we didn’t have access to a nearby CF center stocked with compassionate and capable physicians.  Or if we didn’t have drugs to help recoup our little one when she falls ill.  What if enzymes or the vest hadn’t been invented yet, or if cross-contamination protocols didn’t exist in our hospitals and CF centers?  I realize that for many living with this disease, my “what if’s” were at one time a reality, and I am so thankful for the progress that our healthcare system has made with CF and the promise of more progress to come.

3.      An abundance of healthy (and fatty!) foods – I recently re-read the book A Tree Grows in Brooklyn.  If it’s been awhile since your 8th grade English class, it’s about a young girl living in Brooklyn in the early 20th century.  She and her family struggle in many ways, particularly with hunger.  As I cruised through the book (usually with a snack in hand), I kept thinking, “What if this were my family?  What if there wasn’t enough food to go around, let alone access to tons and tons of it for my little one with CF?”  This is a reality, not just in the days gone by, but for many families right here right now.  As I boot up my Crock Pot this morning and begin my daily sprinkling of salt, I am thankful that even though my daughter may not want to eat all of my “delicious” concoctions – and even though we do struggle with weight from time to time – we are not lacking in the availability of sustenance itself.

4.      Hope and faith – I believe in God, and while I may not be the most spiritual person out there, I firmly believe that angels are watching over us.  Each night, I ask the Good Lord to keep my kids healthy, happy, safe, and strong, and my little prayer box has been a huge source of comfort as my family battles our way through cold and flu season.  I also have a huge amount of trust in science and am hopeful that one day we will see a cure for this disease – or at least a rock star Kalydeco-like drug for all mutations out there.  Hear that, scientists?  Back to work, all of you! 

5.      I don’t know why my daughter has CF, but I do know that it has brought our family closer together and given us a renewed sense of what’s important and what’s not.  Which brings me to my last blessing…  The little things.  This has been my first Christmas season where I’ve been home with the kids during the days.  We wear cozy socks together, blast Christmas carols, make snow angels, bake sweet treats, and talk about what we are thankful for.  We dance (albeit badly), anxiously await the day’s delivery of Christmas cards, and watch bad made-for-TV movies.  Granted, it’s not all sugar and spice around here.  At this very minute, the kids are shrieking over markers as they draw competitive pictures of the Grinch.  [Brief pause to allow for yelling and respective time outs].  I never said we’re perfect, but we are together.  And having CF in our life nudges us toward an appreciation of that each and every day.

Life as a family with a complex healthcare condition isn’t always rosy, but that doesn’t mean that it can’t be blessed.  Here’s to everyone out there who is on a similar ride this season.  Whether you are at home, in the hospital, or far, far away, know that someone out there is thinking of you and wishing you well.  Happy holidays to you and yours, and may your days be blessed.