In Sickness & In Health

Do you know the scenes in movies where the person is being rushed through the hospital, and their loved one arrives just in time to find them?

This is the exact image of what I remember in between my neurologist visit and passing out in the wheelchair on the way to the ER.

My husband was there right when I needed him most.

I might have been half conscious from the pain, but I will never forget how much love and concern he showed me through those days in the hospital. His support in helping me breathe and cope with every increase of pressure was enough to make me think I could handle anything.

I could finally rest. He would make sure I was taken care of.

For months, my husband did more than I could have ever asked for in helping me fight my sickness. He was there to encourage me that God was in control. He was there to motivate me to be active to fight the symptoms. He stayed on top of me to watch what I ate and to make sure I took my medicine in time. And he helped me focus on getting through the pain instead of dwelling in it.

On top of this, he worked full time, cared for our baby, helped with meals, groceries, and housework, and filled every role that I couldn’t.

He was the only person that I was comfortable showing my true experience to. For everyone else, I tried to hide the pain, whether out of pride or out of respect. But with him, I could relax and do what I needed to do to feel better, even if that meant buckling down against the couch covered in cold rags. He never judged. He never overburdened. He was my comfort.

But sickness doesn’t always just affect the one in pain. Although my husband couldn’t feel what I felt, he still experienced every thing I went through first hand.

My job loss caused him to have to work harder while he watched everything he had already worked for fall apart.

He was the one to deal with the doctors and nurses when they neglected my care or brushed it off entirely.

He was constantly missing work to stay with me in the hospital and to sleep in those miserably uncomfortable chairs.

We weren’t going on dates. We weren’t even spending much quality time together at all. By the time he got home from work and put the baby to bed, I was already half asleep from either pain medication or physical exhaustion. From him always being at work and me basically isolating myself, we barely even had anything to communicate about.

Our marriage was hanging on by nothing. Sometimes you could feel it, but half the time everything else going on took all the focus.

By September of 2018, it seemed as if all sympathy and tenderness was gone. I reluctantly sent my husband the text that I was going to be admitted again.

His response was enough to make me want to stay in the hospital alone. I was even more humiliated to have my mom sitting next to me hearing the whole phone conversation. Moms – the most protective people we know. God forbid anyone upset their child. I was about ready to be alone altogether.

But when I hung up, my mom didn’t go off on a tangent about my husband’s behavior. Instead, she told me that people often don’t see or understand the stress that the other person goes through in watching their loved ones get sick.

She told me my dad had acted the same way when she found out she had thyroid cancer. He grew moody and irritable instead of being the loving support that she so desperately needed at the time.

She told me that my sister’s marriage had gone through the same distress even while she simply recovered from knee surgery.

Physical impairments tend to cause emotional stress, both for the sufferer and their loved ones. Unfortunately, this stress is often released on the people we love most.

I spent the next couple of hours crying. I was in pain, and I was sick. I was sick of being in the hospital. I was sick of being a burden to everyone. And I was sick of this sickness destroying my marriage.

I dreaded having to face my husband. This was all my fault.

But when he finally arrived, he didn’t say anything. Instead, he came by my hospital bed and kissed me. He asked me how I was feeling. He apologized for his outburst. And just like that, it was all over.

Our marriage became stronger after that moment. Our teamwork became more proficient by having a game plan for how to help prevent this from happening again. We were ready to accept the reality that this sickness brought, but we didn’t have to let it bring us down.

I now know the importance of making sure my husband stays informed of every symptom I feel. He also knows not to panic if I say I have a headache. We have to communicate. We have to take this one step at a time and follow our protocol to help keep the situation under control.

I was blessed when I met him, and I remain blessed to still be with him after everything. We said our vows, and now we have the privilege of testing them. In sickness and in health, till death do us part.