Illness/injury is not always a bad thing, as I've learned over the years. One of the first times I learned this was in medical school when I was training at the V.A. hospital. One afternoon, I was examining a man who had developed early Alzheimer's disease. He was a pleasant enough gentleman; he mostly smiled at everything I asked him. Fortunately, his daughter was there by his side to answer most of them. At the end of my questions, I did a full examination and expressed my sympathies that this man had been robbed of his faculties at such an early age.
Daughter: "Why would you say that?"
Me: "Because it's a shame that someone this young should have to go through this."
Daughter: "Before this disease, my father was a guilt-stricken, tearful mess over the things he was forced to do and undergo in Vietnam. Now, look at him. He's a smiling, care-free child again. This disease is not a curse; it's a blessing. My father gets to enjoy his last years free of the memories of that awful place. The real shame is that he had to endure it in the first place."
I didn't really know what to say to this and said that I was sorry I had brought it up. She just smiled and led her father outside to the waiting room once again. He waved to me as he walked out the door, grinning.