Since I launched this blog five years ago, there’s one thing you could be assured of – I’d be blogging at least twice a week no matter what! My mind and soul needed it. But about five weeks ago, I get a phone call from my love and he thinks he’s having a heart attack.
Everything in my life immediately goes on hold. We rush to the hospital. They thought he was having a heart attack. Tests, scans, MRIs, shaking heads, blood tests, confused looks, etc… and finally, after three days, we definitely knew Steve wasn’t having a heart attack, but instead, had a nice bout of pleurisy AND had managed to pick up a virus that had attached itself to the outside wall of his heart.
|Kept his sense of humor, and yes, I did manage a little shop too
Three days in hospital, lots of drugs, he comes home and gets straight to work, planning for a series of important meetings in Sydney the next week. He jumps on the plane Sunday morning, then Tuesday I get an obscure SMS, which I later found out meant the pain was back and he’d checked himself into hospital in Sydney – via taxi with all of his luggage. I think that experience was the real kicker for Steve. He thought he was better, he was feeling confident, and yet here he was on his arse again. He was also there and I was here. It wasn’t fun.
It was definitely a wake-up call and he realized he needed to stop completely, rest and get that bloody virus out of his system. We’ve since headed back to the cardiologist, and while he’s a nice bloke, we don’t really know what’s going on, we just know that if it does get worse, there are steps that can be taken – including injections into his heart – so we just wait, hoping it doesn’t happen.
For Steve all of this has been a huge blow. He’s a big, strong, confident fella my darling man, so to feel weak and dependent is not good for him. It’s especially not good for him over a long-ish period of time. The drugs he’s taking aren’t helping his state of mind either. He desperately wants to get better and be strong again, but the pain has only just started to ease, and while I know he wants to feel hopeful again, he can’t until he’s sure his heart is chugging along OK.
For me it’s been a different experience. For days, weeks, I thought I was going to lose him – lying next to him at night wondering if he’d make it through he was in so much pain. It’s been bloody awful. How can I be without my love? He’s everything to me and the boys. But equally, I’ve had to be strong and find the strength (aka patience) to cope with his dark days too – the days he couldn’t find any hope. It sucks being sick right? Naturally, the boys are a big part of it too and I must be there for them, because I know if I’m not here, Steve can’t help himself but step in. But he needed to stop. He needed to be dependent. He needed to let me be the strong one.
That’s not easy for a fella to do – even one who married me!
|You can’t do a poo in that!
I am behind in my life right now. Much more than usual. We have both been consumed with this awful time, wondering if all is going to be OK again. Of course, I KNOW he is going to be OK, but wow, what a time to go through. And then we think of those who are not having such a lucky time, bravely facing every day, so we know we’re lucky, ‘cos we got each other and he’s going to be good really soon.
The boys haven’t really known what was going on. There was no point telling them and Steve definitely didn’t want them seeing him in hospital. So I shared a few photos of their Dad in a blue dress and the only real concern is how does Dad do a pooh in that bottle?
Get strong again my love. We all need you. We all adore you. We’re all with you. And I need to get my blogging mojo back!
Yours, without the bollocks