Issac Bailey | Thankful for the little blessings we take for granted

My fingers work.

I can type and write with a pencil, things earlier this year I couldn’t do.

I can get around without crutches or a wheelchair and am physically stronger than my 10-year-old daughter.

My workouts now include running for a few miles on the former Air Force base in Myrtle Beach and trips to Planet Fitness.

Not too long ago, folding a load of freshly laundered clothes was all I could handle. Even then, I had to take several breaks in between folding a couple of large towels and T-shirts to not become overwhelmed by fatigue.

I pull on my own socks every morning and unbutton my own pants every evening.

I’m not developing life-threatening deep blood clots or runaway fevers and chills.

I no longer accidentally bite my lower lip every time I eat, a few small drops of blood adding a special seasoning to my food.

I’m not telling my wife to locate the life insurance policy or to prepare to make tough decisions about my health status if I can’t.

I don't walk around feeling vulnerable, wondering if I could protect myself from anyone who would do me harm.

My heart is strong.

My legs and arms are getting stronger.

Doctors aren't standing over me telling me they don't know what's wrong, or how to treat it, as I lay in a hospital only half aware that they are even there.

Things aren't perfect. Medical issues I'll be dealing with for the foreseeable future remain and I may never be the person I was before being diagnosed with the rare auto immune condition called CIDP (chronic inflammatory demyelinating polyneuropathy.)

But I'm alive and get to crack wise with family and friends during another Thanksgiving Day dinner, something that didn't seem guaranteed during the darkest moments.

The truth is that it was never guaranteed, though I had allowed myself to become convinced it was because I had begun ignoring the everyday miracle that is life.

That's one of the oddest things about us.

The more blessings we receive, the more likely we are to forget we even have them.

The more consistently the blessings arrive, the more fervently we deny the good while lamenting the bad.

Just a few Thanksgivings ago the country seemed on the verge of a second Great Depression. Hundreds of thousands of jobs were being lost every month, the economy was shrinking and mass layoffs seemed to come with each rise of the sun.

Now that we’ve had more than four straight years of job growth, we don’t celebrate the jobs we have or the ones we were able to keep; we complain that it took too long to create them and that they don’t pay enough.

The more comfortable we get with the presence of family members in friends in our lives, the less we notice how special having them around is.

The kisses on the cheek, the out-of-control hugs, the knowledge that they are a phone call a way or on the other side of the bed becomes background noise and rarely acknowledged for the blessings that they are.

The more we receive what we expect, the less thankful we become.

It shouldn’t take illness or the loss of a livelihood or a loved one to wake us up to the everyday blessings we take for granted.

Sometimes that’s the only way some of us will be shaken free from our ungrateful stupor.

I wish I could say I was one of the few who don’t need such a reminder.

But I’m not.

That’s why today I’m thankful for working fingers and will endeavor to never overlook that blessing again.

This story was originally published November 26, 2014 at 11:26 AM with the headline "Issac Bailey | Thankful for the little blessings we take for granted."