We were sitting on a balcony talking for hours, still just getting to know each other. I remember we sat on that balcony talking until the sun was setting and in the darkness of night, the moon shone, reflecting light upon his profile. I studied it while he talked, and my brain went to a whole different place.
I was thinking, "Now, that is such a cute, boyish profile!"
It was the first time that I felt a little tingle inside my tummy as I realized that, more than just conversation, I was attracted to this man. Right at that moment, I tuned back into what he was saying and realized it was about a kiss! He leaned over and I felt the warmth of his lips.
When you kiss the right person, you know it.
It feels like liquid warmth and comfort, like love.
When I first scheduled an appointment for my husband at our family doctor's office, the receptionist could barely find his file. She exclaimed, "We haven't seen him in six years!"
It's true. He's what you would call a low-maintenance type of guy. He has always been strong and fit. When he developed an annoying little cough, we both did not think much of it; although, when his wedding ring began to slip off of his finger- due to weight loss, we became concerned.
Our family doctor did an X-ray and asked my husband if he had worked in coal mines. He had been a truck driver his whole life, and we knew that question was not a good sign. The doctor sent him for a CT Scan and indicated it was Pulmonary Fibrosis, scarring of the lungs. He referred us to a pulmonologist. The pulmonologist wanted to find out more about what may have caused the Pulmonary Fibrosis, so he ordered a bronchoscopy.
This was more medical attention than my husband had experienced in his entire life. As a matter of fact, it really tugged at my heart when he looked so nervous when a nurse had to draw blood for a test. I thought to myself, "If this scares him, then how will he feel when he has the bronchoscopy?"
Thankfully, the staff at the hospital was very sweet to him and he was enamoured with the new-fangled hospital gowns that get hooked up to a hose and blows warm air into the gown, in order to keep the patient warm. He loved that and wished we had such "a get up" at home.
The pulmonologist found no more further information from the bronchoscopy and confirmed that it was Pulmonary Fibrosis. He suggested that my husband get a full-blown lung biopsy, which has a higher mortality rate than the bronchoscopy. When we asked him if a biopsy will help find a cure for my husband, he said no, but it may lend some clue as to where this disease derived from.
My husband does not want a lung biopsy or a lot of testing done on him. I let him know that he needs to go with what he feels comfortable doing and just because a doctor may want this; ultimately, the decision is his.
DIARY ENTRY -SEPTEMBER 25, 2010
Are you lost?
It's funny that no matter what highway or back road we have been on together, we have rarely been lost. As a truck driver, you have been able to see most of this country and have understood that everything is interconnected. There may have been times that you did not know how to get to a destination, but you were never lost. Especially in our marriage. It seems like the only time we felt lost is when we were apart from each other for too long. Are you lost right now? Am I? Just hold tight, baby. It may seem that way at the moment, but we are not! We are on a road, a journey, that we may not know the destination, but we are not lost.
Whenever my husband explains how we met, he says, "Her neighbor threw me over the fence and she never threw me back."
Which is his way of saying that my neighbor introduced us. I was attending a birthday party at my neighbor's house and there he was. Wearing a tight pair of Wranglers and cowboy boots, looking ever so out of place. I handed him a piece of cake.
Two years later, he attempted to shove cake in my face (in such a loving way) on our wedding day (which I never let him forget).
Whether a husband, wife, mother, brother, sister, or friend- how many times do we think about all the reasons we love that person?
I cannot put into words all the ways I love my husband but here are a few that come to mind...
Since the day we met, we always sit at the same side of a table or booth together.
Hands are warm and a little rough,
Blond hair, beautiful and silky, curls around my finger.
Wonderful little laugh lines surround his eyes.
Hardest worker I have ever met.
Quiet and reserved, although beneath the surface is a wicked sense of humor.
Gives me slippers every year, just as my old pair are falling apart.
A beautiful poem that was written by a niece to her uncle who has Pulmonary Fibrosis.
Rested upon my lips, words meant to be spoken,
Slumbering inside my heart, pieces left broken,
Kneeling on bended knees, prayers sent through the unseen air,
Pen within my hand, be the voice to spread the word I need to share..
I forever remember the day, when fate brought me the news,
The world stood still, left with thoughts I had to infuse,
Where was my faith? Had I not done something right?
So many questions the doctor brought to light,
It felt like the Angels song had already been sung,Breathless I had become, in need of a new lung.
I worried my days into heartache and fear,
First there was denial, then the anger did appear,
Tears began to shed over my dimming, gray sorrow,
Finally revealing, I can still fight for tomorrow.
I felt it in the rain, when my lover and I kissed,
I knew I was more than a fading name on a list,
A new purpose I had been given, a gift to bring love,
To give my family strength, to show them how we can rise above.
My sickness will not become me, I battle with no strife,
For I already breathe the breath of a new life..
I am true to my word, and I strike with all my might!
I am not to be taken down, for I hold the will to Fight!
Between you and me I am scared. I have been crying on his shoulder the past few days! This sucks! Not so much his illness (yes, that sucks, too!). Rather, my pathetic mourning process of the life that we once knew. Can't I just keep it to myself? Must I blubber on his shoulder? That's not right, after all, he's the one who is sick.
This is just one of those things that the true spirit seems to take over. I have dealt with loss in my life before and know there is something cathartic in the process of showing emotions. I truly believe that he might benefit from my outpouring of love and sadness.
He has not cried. But, he has put out a very strong shoulder that I may rest my head and, at times, blow my nose. I am crying for both of us. He rubs my shoulder and tells me, "It's alright".
That's is how we fall asleep. I wish I were more noble, somehow.