As I sit in the hospital with my daughter and granddaughter I realize that I could let my negative thoughts get the best of me. I could complain about sleeping in a recliner that is killing my back or be frustrated with the number of times my granddaughter is woken up through the night. I could become angry at the four veins that have been blown in her itty bitty body and the fact that the doctors have no idea why she is spitting up dried blood or where it is coming from, but I can’t allow myself to do that; because if I allow myself to go there I will become bitter and depressed. Instead, I choose to write down the things I am grateful for; like the fact that I’m even allowed to stay overnight with my girls and I’m not considered to be a visitor; I am thankful that the staff is checking on her diligently to make sure she is ok; my heart hurts for the nurse who blew the veins when trying to get her IV in because I know she was as upset as I was about it, and though we don’t have answers my granddaughter has a team of doctors and nurses who are not giving up on her. I do realize that we are blessed to have this hospital and this staff.