Thursday, May 3, 2012

Even in this.

I have an amazing husband.  

I know this.  

I don't always appreciate how blessed I am.

Then this week, as I have writhed in pain from a calcified rupture pressing on my sciatic nerve, I have been astounded by the man that I have married.

When this happens, which it does every few years, and will continue, until I am ready to undergo surgery - I turn from a happy, healthy woman, to one screaming in pain.  As I lie, writhing on the couch through the night, I imagine the relief I could get from slamming my head into the tile floor.  Anything to relieve the desperate, shooting sparks flying up and down my leg, the charlie horse of hell- constant throbbing in my back. 

Unfortunately there is not a position that doesn't bring pain.  My bed brings more.  I alternate between the couch, the floor and popping pills that don't come close to kissing the edge of pain.

I am so thankful to not be pregnant or nursing, this time.  I have previously not had the luxury of chemicals to relieve the agony.  The fact that they aren't working has been discouraging, but it feels good to try.  The bottle of wine I drank, dulled the sense of the pain, but not the pain itself.  The vomiting left me feeling as though death were lurking in the night as I tossed myself into the oblivion of hell.  

Through this.  My husband, the man who didn't know all he was getting himself into, has gently taken care of me.

He has woken to tend to the children, taking them to the park, to the store, giving me space to writhe.

He has stood through my fears, my insecurities, as I question and blame.  Lost in my pain I see only myself.

He has left work to take me to chiropractic appointments, massage therapy, woken at 3AM to massage the knots that form.  

And I am humbled at his love.

I am amazed at his gentleness.  

I am wooed by care.

We don't expect the bad things in life. 

When they come, as they come, and character and truth are put to test - I find myself a little shaken by the depth of promise made.  The valor of the man who stands to care.  Who puts his family first.  Who gently loves and firmly lives.

I know.  I believe.  That there is an end to this.  

I have shaken the strength of his patience, screamed as I pushed away, gasped at the hands that supported, and bowed at the love that remains.

To say that I am blessed misses the depths.

I am loved.  

And in return, I love.

Through sickness we remain, faithful.  

In health we rejoice.  Free to run in this life - with joy.

To the man that I married, I am thankful - the day you said forever, the promises you keep.  This life, together, we live.