My awesome husband
I just saw Troy’s post and felt I had to add my two cents to the situation.
When you have been married to someone for almost 10 years (May 11!), it seems like you know them pretty well. We haven’t had the easiest 10 years either. We’ve had the average stress and heartache of most married couples and, well, anyone who is breathing, really. And we got the extra-special experience of having a baby who ended up in the hospital at three weeks in emergency heart surgery! We’ve had the experiences that break up some people — trauma, depression, money problems, death, etc. We’ve made it through. Not just made it through — we go through things and come out wiser, more interesting and, sometimes, more in love!
Troy is the most important person in my life and I knew when I was diagnosed with this evil disease that he was always going to be there for me. That first day was a zombie hell, but I didn’t know then that things would get worse. (And I now expect chemo and maybe other treatments in my future have the potential to be worse than what I’ve already experienced.)
From the beginning, Troy has not only been there to hold my hand, but to serve as the most awesome patient advocate in the history of humankind. He has gotten several appointments for me moved up or “squeezed into” a schedule using his charm. (You can’t imagine how awesome this is until you’ve had 12 doctor’s appointments and visited three hospitals in one month.) He has run interference when my brain crashes and I can’t remember where I am or who I’m seeing today. He shoves me out of bed in the mornings, takes Colleen to school (my job!) and works from home to make sure I’m not lonely.
The past few weeks sitting in doctor’s offices, waiting rooms and hospitals, I’ve developed a bit of a panic problem. When left alone, I get an overwhelming urge to run far, far away. If I sit still, I start to cry. If I stand up, the urge to run gets greater. Troy stays by my side (he doesn’t even go to the restroom until he thinks I’m ok to leave). He talks me down from the edge of mental cliffs about 10 times every day. And most importantly, he makes me laugh a lot. He makes rude and inappropriate jokes. He calls people funny names under his breath so only I can hear, which gives me the non-stop giggles. I can actually feel stress leaving my body when he is making me laugh. He helps me not to get lost in my infinite mind and gets my feet back on the hospital floor below me.
I can’t tell you what a huge blessing his presence has been. He has gotten me to more than one appointment that I would have missed because I would have started driving in the opposite direction and never would have stopped. His presence allows me to stay more calm, stay focused and get my questions answered. Of course, he still leaves his clothes in the living room and won’t change the cat litter, but as far as the whole cancer thing goes, he’s a darn near freakin’ saint! Stand back, ladies, because he is all mine!