with thanks to my boys

Tuesday, November 22, 2011

I beg a self-indulgent moment today while I thank my boys:

He brings me water. Hot tea. Crackers and cheese in the dead middle of the night when the pain becomes excruciating, but I can’t take the medication without getting sick. He feeds the children, gets them dressed and to the bus, helps with homework. He rubs lotion on my legs, sleeps downstairs when I need the whole bed to get comfortable, hugs me when I cry with frustration and pain. He takes time off work to help me recover, to bring me lunch, to care for the children when I need to take my medication. (You know all those warnings about narcotics being addictive. Not an issue for me. Vicodin makes me so very sick. Woozy. I really can’t take it around people.)

I planned extra time to get ready for a very important day because I move so slowly. Still, I found myself panicking because I was running out of time. He helps me get dressed – held my shirts so I could get into them. Threaded my belt through the loops. Put the backs on my earrings.
He takes me to the doctor. Picks up my prescriptions. Helps me change my bandage.

My husband rocks.

He comes from school and gets the baby up from the crib when I can’t lift her. He unloads the dishwasher before he leaves for school in the morning and loads it again after dinner. He makes meals. He sweeps the floor, helps his sister with her homework, helps his little sister get dressed. He picks up, helps with laundry, gets the mail, and takes out the trash. He does more than is reasonable for any ten year old because it is what helps our family function with a little bit of normalcy. He does it without complaint.

He hugs me when I’m in pain. He tells me he wishes it was him who hurt instead of me. He rallies the other children to help more, to be quieter, to be better than they really need to be to make things easier.

My son rocks.

People live with far worse disabilities and far more pain than this complication from my wrist surgery; I’m not trying in the least bit to compare. However, this past week and a half has been one of the most unpleasant times for our family in a very long time. It seems to be getting better now, but it’s not done. Recovery will be much longer and more painful than anticipated. I couldn’t do it without my boys. They are amazing. Truly. I have never appreciated them more.

It’s good to be in a family.

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