I'm coming down with the flu, just in time for my birthday (oh joy!). But I'm not going to throw a pity party (or any party for that matter, but that's by the by) because I am constantly being reminded of how blessed I am. Alhamdulilah.

Today, I visited a friend in hospital. Her daughter was admitted with pneumonia a few days ago. She's doing remarkably well now, almost being given the all-clear to go home, but its been a very trying week for her mother, a single parent of four. How she has managed to juggle it all without having a melt-down is awe-inspiring.

In the same ward, in the adjacent bed lies a baby girl, presumably sedated (wearing a mask). She has downs syndrome, but its unclear what her medical complications are. My friend tells me that she was abandoned, left outside the hospital. She's been here for more than 6 months (we know this because another patient's mother mentioned that she was already here when they were admitted 6 months ago). The only 'visitors' she has are the staff. No one is allowed to approach her. She is completely and utterly alone in this world, and she's not yet had her first birthday.

Hospitals are grounding. Whilst on one level, they are places of hope and healing, they are also reminders of just how mortal and susceptible we are. There is always someone worse off than you in a hospital. A horrible, depressing thought, but humbling nonetheless.

I thank God for my healthy children everyday and pray that he gives me the longevity to see them all to adulthood and beyond.

Happy birthday to me.