I think it's in Image of the Fendahl
where Leela says, "My tribe has a saying: if you're hurt, look for a man with scars". This invented proverb has long helped me make sense of my life. Call it a divine plan, or call it finding meaning in events: the reason I am ill in so many ways is so that I can learn how to help others when they
are ill. Nobody escapes illness; it's an inevitable feature of a universe that literally wouldn't exist without imperfection
. I've just had more practice at it than some (and less than others).
To boil these cosmic speculations down to a concrete example: if I didn't have diabetes, I wouldn't have been forced to overcome my fear of needles, and I wouldn't be able to give Frank his painkilling injections.
Because I'm so trashed so much of the time, I'm never going to be a Florence Nightingale, nor a mother. During Frank's weeks of sickness, I've often found myself thinking that even looking after a cat is too bloody hard, financially*, physically**, and emotionally, and that, once the boys are gone, that is it, I will never get another pet.
The awful thing is, I think I might actually be good at this.
* Insure your pets. Insure your pets. Insure your pets. (We'll be fine, thanks to Frank's bank account - and thank gods, because you do not
want to be making decisions based on cost.)
** Jon is providing all kinds of essential support - especially keeping the laundry going! Frank's ability to get cat food, water, drool, Flagyl, and poo all over everything is proving prodigious. :)