Giving Thanks for Everything My Disability Has Taught Me

Oprah Winfrey is quoted as saying, "Be thankful for what you have; you'll end up having more. If you concentrate on what you don't have, you will never, ever have enough.” In this month of celebrating Thanksgiving, I am thinking a lot about Oprah’s words. I can honestly say that I understand them now. But I didn’t always.

I began making the effort to develop my sense of gratitude about seven years ago. It was a time when I realized how much resentment I had because of my speech disability. I was getting annoyed with everything then, but especially with people who I thought of as “normal” and had no clue what my life was like. I compared myself to them and doted on how lucky they were because they didn’t have to go regularly to a doctor and rely on medical treatments to be able to speak. As these feelings deepened I knew I had to do something. I hated myself for feeling jealous and immersed in self-pity, so I forced myself to consciously focus on the good things in my life. I began to mentally note at least one thing I could be thankful for each day.

Over the years, I knew that my daily practice of giving thanks helped me tremendously. My negative feelings disappeared and I gained a much greater sense of peace and contentment. However, this year I had an opportunity to really put my daily practice of giving thanks to the test. My wonderful surgeon, who I have come to rely on to “fix” my speech problem, was unavailable. I have seen him at least twice a year since 1999 and my last treatment with him was January 2012. By mid-May I knew that my voice was going and it was time for another treatment. As usual, I called his office for an appointment but they said my doctor was unable to work and they didn’t know when he was coming back.

If this had occurred ten years ago, I would have gone into a complete panic. I would have thought that my voice would immediately revert to being as bad as it was before I began treatments. However, by working on my gratitude, I had changed. I was calmer and more self-assured. The act of reinforcing a positive emotion in myself everyday over the years taught me that I would be fine and I could deal with whatever might happen.

My voice worsened over the summer. Instead of panicking I simply thought I would check in again with my doctor’s office. When I called in August they said that my surgeon was still out but there was another doctor who could perform the procedure I needed. I went to him with optimism and the hope that all would go well. It didn’t.

Still, I kept up with my practice of giving thanks each day. I gave thanks for understanding why my treatment worked or didn’t, and especially for knowing that – even if I never got another treatment that worked – I would be okay.

By September it was much harder to control my voice. The sense of it weakening made me feel weak emotionally too. Yet, I knew that my problem wasn’t going to kill me. I also knew that if I kept thinking positive thoughts and reminded myself of how much I had, the calm that this created would create better speech. If I had to, I could whisper to tell people that my voice was gone. At work I could use American Sign Language, something I made sure to learn in case my voice ever went and medical intervention no longer worked for me. I had lots of psychological tools and other voices that I had learned about. It made me feel very grateful to know that there were lots of things at my disposal that could help me.

More time passed and my voice worsened. I could feel a twinge of the pain I used to have when I tried to speak and couldn’t. At one point I felt myself bordering on depression but I kept giving thanks. I was grateful that I could work and function, that my body and brain were intact. I didn’t like feeling out of control with my speech, but I was grateful for the other things that gave me a sense of strength and I focused on them. In particular, I kept reminding myself of the fact that I had managed to live with my disability for almost forty years without any diagnosis or treatment. 

In October I decided to call my doctor’s office once more. I was thrilled to hear that my surgeon was back at work. A part of me, though, was almost sad. I knew it was best for me to get treated and be able to speak without any pain, but not getting treated had taught me so much and I didn’t want that to end.

Going without medical intervention pointed out just how much I had improved. I saw that it had been ten months since my last treatment, the longest I had gone in thirteen years since my first one. Although I had struggled with my voice problem, I didn’t fall apart. Most importantly, I no longer hated my speech disability or dreaded what I would be like if I couldn’t get medical assistance for it. Instead, I was grateful for everything I learned from my disability. I finally realized that it is the one thing that has taught and continues to teach me so much about myself and about how to live a full and happy life.