I just took a look at my Progress Log - I started it two years ago. I try to remember to write stuff down, even little things, because I know everything counts. It's good to remind myself of this on days when I'm tired, when I just don't have "gas in the tank" to take on a new challenge. 
Doing social stuff or outings is very challenging for me. Where will it be? How many people will be there? What time of day? If there is a meal involved, do I need to bring food, or deal with a special order? It's like there's a scale of challenge for everything, and then I think about what will come before and after in terms of whether or not I can do it. That balancing act - and knowing myself, when to take on a challenge, when not - is always there. What I can do has definitely gotten to be more, like being able to go to the Chicago Botanic Gardens for a couple hours with Ron and the girls in the morning, and actually enjoying it. Going downtown to a museum is definitely not an option. I am again not going to be able to perform in the Kol Hadash Choir for the High Holidays - there's still just too many issues to deal with. But I'm definitely playing my flute more, getting more out of it, sounding better. 
One of the things I talked about recently with Joyce, my Feldenkrais therapist, is the multi-tasking I do. Oh I know, everyone does this. But it has a somewhat different meaning for me. It means that when I bend down to give our dog his breakfast, or pet him first thing in the morning, I think about how I position my body. This is because of my "where I am in space sense" that isn't quite subconscious at times. Then I try to concentrate on how his fur feels. I don't like sometimes feeling what's called disequilibrium - feeling just a bit off balance - and thankfully don't feel this nearly as much as I used to. I also get a lot of ear popping for a variety of reasons. It's not painful, and I've gotten used to it - it's something that happens when my system is getting organized again. When I stand to talk to someone, I try to strike a balance between looking at them and being aware of my surroundings. I want to feel engaged, to pay attention to whomever I'm speaking with. When I play my flute, I try to really hear the notes rather than think about how I feel. Being self-aware is a good thing, up to a point. 
Sometimes I think - and I've said this to my various therapists - that it's like being a little kid and learning stuff all over again. How much to be aware of my peripheral vision, and when that doesn't matter. How to read so that a paragraph has meaning. I need to slow down and give myself time to process stuff. My sensory system - I - can definitely handle more than I could a little over two years ago when I first started with Joyce. I don't need to rest as much as I used to, and I don't need breaks in between activities as much. And I know that's what I need to focus on...not that the multi-tasking and re-training is frustrating and slow. Or how far I still want to go. But that it's happening, and how far I've come.
I think about what Leena and Cara have learned from having a mom and dad with health issues. They've never experienced hunger or poverty - for which I'm very grateful - but there's no question that there are many life lessons they have learned. Among other things, they know life is hard, and challenging, and unfair, that I can't protect them from pain. They know that sometimes being a fighter is really hard but also really important. They know what it really means to be, as well as how difficult it can be sometimes, to be patient. 
I don't think what happened to me was meant to be - that's just not part of how I look at life. But I have taken the opportunity to think about things, examine some things, grow. I do believe very strongly that everyone can learn from what happens to them - and I know I have...and I keep learning. This is my life, and I need to learn from whatever experiences I have.