Last month if you had asked me I would have told you that I didn’t rely on my husband to be around that much. I would have been wrong. Oh we rely on him to bring in the money and to be here when he takes the kids so I can get that much needed rest but I thought we were miles apart. I thought I was only depending on myself. I was wrong. I began to take my husband’s being there as just something that was. I knew that he would never leave us. I knew that he loved us. I wouldn’t say that I love his parenting but then what spouse really does? He’s dependable, loyal and loving. Though in some areas of the loving we don’t get there much with all the demands of the kids. And I’m not talking about this part on a PG blog.
This week, I watched as my husband laid in that hospital bed and my heart leaped into my throat. I’d been here before I kept saying myself. I was thrown back to a time almost thirty years ago when my first husband was so sick. I was paralyzed with fear. I didn’t know how to cope with this situation. The doctor came in to tell us that he thought that my husband might have blood clots in his legs. How could this be happening to him? I asked myself. He’s 37 years old. He’s not old enough to have clots. Well, he does. The emergency doctor ran a simple test and told us that he would be spending the night there in the hospital. At that moment, I was glad that my niece had picked up the kids so that I could somehow keep myself together for my husband. He had a fever of 100.3 when we arrived before long it rose to 100.8. Then we found out his sugar was at 324. That’s high and it put my fear in deeper. They had to give him insulin. I was scared that I was watching my own personal horror story. Could I do this again? I wondered. I had been so young when my first husband was ill. I didn’t believe someone could die. Now it’s a fact in my head.
The doctor in the emergency room told us that they would probably keep Ken in the hospital for three to four days and then all would be good. The next morning they told my husband that he could go home and take his shots at home. Are you kidding me? The emergency doctor had stressed to us how important his getting the medicine was and just how dangerous it was for my husband. Those clots can move up your body. They moved from his knee to the upper part of his thigh. They can move to his lungs or even his heart. But yet because he’s young they are sending him home. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know how to fight it. And it happened Ken came home from the hospital with shots. Ken wanted me to give him those shots… There is no way I can do it. I did it the first go around. Now they fill me with terror. I can’t do it. So Ken has to give them to himself.
As the week wore on, my fears and anxiety slipped away to reveal the biggest part of me. The part that remembers how much I love my husband of eleven years this weekend.
I love you sweetheart.