My husbands chronic illness is really taking its toll on me and the family. He has been admitted to the hospital twice within a week and a half. Yesterday, before I could get to the door, he was calling me to tell me needing to call an ambulance because he was throwing up blood. When I got in the house and saw how much blood he had thrown up, I fought off the shock that ripped through my heart.
The first thing I thought? "Wow, he really just may die before he is 50," which is at the end of November. He is frail, his kidneys are only working at 24% of their capacity, he had several mini-strokes over the weekend, he is having trouble breathing, he can barely hold anything in his hands. His muscle control is lessening due to the strokes, his legs are swollen beyond recognition, his skin is turning dark, he can barely hear, and his eyes are failing.
All this from diabetes and high blood pressure. He lived the wild life, all his life and now he is paying the piper. Oh yes, he certainly danced to the music. I often watched him in awe throughout the years, secretly wishing I had the nerve to live so recklessly, at least a little. Instead, I stayed on course and did my best to bring some balance and awareness in his life.
Now that we are on the other side and are actually enjoying each other on many levels, his health is a big issue. It is really hard to get in the mood for much after watching someone throw up their guts. I told him Sunday, "You know, we are really blessed to have each other and to have had each other for so long." He agreed. He began to look for something and I lead him directly to it. He turn and said, "Boy, men who don't have a wife don't know what they are missing." He has, he will and he did.
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