Tag Archives: Marriage

I can’t say “marriage enrichment” because the term makes me and the husband want to vomit.

Blooming Where I’m Planted

tiffatvandyDo you see that girl? That’s me- four years ago. (Do you see my awesome collection of stuffed animals? Yeah, my husband specializes in fluffy gift giving.) Four years ago, I participated in an inpatient research study at Vanderbilt University Medical Center (Clinical Research Center) during the 4th of July. I knew that I would never be well enough to participate in cook outs or fireworks, so I spent 11 days in the hospital doing experimental treatment for autonomic disorders. I was new to my POTS (Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome) diagnosis and not yet diagnosed with EDS (Ehlers Danlos Syndrome). I was confused and angry. I had left my career as a middle/ high school Spanish teacher nine months prior to this picture. I had no clue who I was or where I was going. In my mind, I had lost my worth as a professional, wife, and friend. But, during the same hospital stay when this picture was taken, there was a faint bit of inspiration that flickered amidst my desperation. I have no idea where I got this phrase- but I’m not especially creative, so I probably read it or heard it on television. But, the phrase that echoed in my mind and heart was, “You have to bloom where you are planted.”

I, like so many others, did not choose to be planted in current circumstances. I did not study to become a sick person. I didn’t marry my husband with hopes of being his disabled wife. However, if we’re all being honest, there are few of us who have written our own way. Life has planted us in some less than ideal places, and we have to decide what to do with the situation. Don’t misinterpret what I’m saying. I’m not going to tell you that all you need to do is smile or have a good attitude. Not at all. There are days when life isn’t a greeting card. There are days when I cry and complain and whine and eat all the junk food. However, in spite of a difficult situation, I choose to bloom.

Yesterday marked four years since the first picture was taken. I can still remember the emotions and pain of that day. I can remember trying to force a smile for a picture- but feeling like the gifts I was posing with were little more than a sympathy offering- little more than flowers at a funeral. Yesterday, I took a new picture- at my first ever book signing. My symptoms hadn’t changed (Has anyone else blacked out when they heard a fire truck’s siren? That was new for me.), but my perspective had.

I’m not handling all this perfectly. I won’t ever be the great inspirational story of the person who overcomes adversity. However, I live my adversity; I accept it, but I also choose to laugh and smile and advocate in spite of it. I’m blooming exactly where I’m planted- even when I wish I could uproot and move to higher ground.

So, how did I get here? I didn’t wake up one day and decide I like chronic illness. I didn’t adopt my “Bloom where I’m planted” mantra and immediately become a blogger. Heck, I didn’t even start giving unforced smiles at that point. But, I started laughing. I started looking for the hilarity of my newfound life circumstances. I slowly changed my thinking from, “I can’t believe this is happening to me” to “You won’t believe what’s happening now!” Regaining my sense of humor and finding my voice, allowed me to bloom.

The past four years have been the most transformational of any I’ve experienced. I have hurt and endured more than I would have believed. However, I’ve become more understanding. I have increased my capacity to love. Ultimately, I’ve become a person I wanted to be- but that girl four years ago could have never believed possible.

I will never be grateful for illness. If I had the ability, I would heal us all in a heartbeat. However, I am grateful that my broken heartedness has healed. I am blooming. It’s not always pretty. (Heck, I’m probably more of a weed or a wildflower than a beautiful, manicured rose.) I am proud of the growth of the past four years, and I look forward to continuing to bloom with all of you.

Peace, love, and health, friends.

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Being a Sick Perfectionist

This morning I stood in my bedroom for a full minute trying to wrap my head around the amount of laundry, luggage, and shoes that currently litters the floor. It’s not all mine, but a fair percentage certainly is. Things like this drive me bananas. I like to have everything in its place at all times, but there are times when I lack the energy to put it there.
I’m a perfectionist. Don’t misunderstand- I am ridiculously far from being perfect, but I always have a very clear picture in my mind of how things are supposed to be. When reality doesn’t match my desire, I get stressed. I’ve always been this way. When I was a kid, I wanted my books arranged on the shelf in size order. As an adult, I have very particular views about the direction the toilet paper must turn. (Time out here to say that I have 0 understanding of people who don’t even put the toilet paper on the roll- I’m looking at you, husband!)
Unfortunately, my body can’t always keep up with the demands of my brain, and I have had to let a few things go that I never would have dreamed I would. For example, my towel closet (I think I’m supposed to call it a ‘linen closet,’ but we just aren’t that fancy here.) is a mess. In the perfect world where I have plenty of energy, I would fold everything neatly. Towels would all face the same direction, and there would be a stack of white towels and a stack of multi-color towels. In reality, everything in that closet is clean, and that’s all I can promise. I’ve developed a few general rules to keep this perfectionist as calm as possible- and to keep me from threatening my husband with bodily harm. (See what I mean? The man is an animal. PS- This is NOT my bathroom; it’s his.)

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Decide whether the issue is truly a matter of right and wrong.
When you’re bothered by someone’s actions, it can sometimes feel like a personal attack. It typically isn’t. For example, Joe has a strange pile of assorted pajama/ lounge clothes in the corner next to his nightstand. That pile makes me crazy. I can’t conceive ever not folding clothes when I’m not wearing them. There is an illogical part of my brain that tells me sometimes, “He just does this as a passive aggressive attempt to irritate you.” You know what? That’s not the case. The pile of clothes just does not bother him, so he doesn’t think twice about it. If it’s really bothering me, I ask him to minimize the mess, and he has never failed to do so. There isn’t a rule that says “comfy clothes” must be folded when they’re not in use. No one is trying to personally wrong me by not following my imaginary rule. This is not a battle I’m willing to fight.

laundry

Ask for help- even if it doesn’t feel helpful.
My perfectionist tendencies tend to make me cringe when it comes to asking for help. Why? Because the person helping doesn’t do things “right.” Again, these are typically not matters of actual right and wrong- but more matters of how I want things done. I tend to go back and forth between saying, “Joe, will you help me with laundry?” and “Never mind, I’ll do it. I’m picky.” Now, occasionally my concerns have warrant- he has put my “Hang to dry” clothes in the dryer a couple times. But, typically, it’s stuff I can learn to deal with- like folding tshirts down the middle instead of in thirds, as I prefer. Do I really care if I walk around with a crease down the front of my shirt? Probably not.

Laugh at yourself.
Sometimes I have to step back from a situation and laugh at how uptight I’m being. I’ll even ask Joe, “Am I being a little crazy right now?” (He always answers that question way too quickly.) I can recognize how silly it is that I cleaned out a closet before we had friends over to watch the Super Bowl- even though there was absolutely no reason for our guests to look in our closets. I can even laugh at how ridiculous it is that I refuse help when I’m physically incapable of completing a task. That doesn’t make sense- at all.
Friends, if you lean toward being way too worried about insignificant things, the chronic illness life will be especially difficult for you. I’m learning to let some things go. I truly don’t care how things are put in the dishwasher, (Unless my Harry Potter cups are in the bottom- because they will melt, and I won’t be able to celebrate my Hufflepuff-ness daily.) My house will always be clean (or clean-ish), but it will never be spotless. There are probably a few pairs of shoes peeking out from under our bed right now. My kitchen counters probably have a few crumbs on them, and there’s a pile of laundry at the base of the stairs (that lead to the laundry room), because I lack the energy to actually carry clothes downstairs. In spite of all this, I’m sitting on the back porch and typing at the computer without hyperventilating. If I’m learning to deal with this perfectly imperfect life, so can you.

Peace, love, and health.

Birthday, Anniversary, and U2- Oh my!

Who am I? Where am I? Does anyone know what day of the week it is?

Seriously, y’all, we’ve had way too many holidays in the Early household. First, there was Joe’s birthday. He doesn’t ask for much- just a small party with his parents, a day in Louisville for the two of us, and a small party with close friends. Dude wanted 3 celebrations. Now, I can’t judge. I declare the entire month of September as the “Festival of a Tiffany,” so I can’t really begrudge his three celebrations. But . . . by the final celebration, I was sticking potato chips in the dishwasher. Because, when I’m tired that seems like a totally logical place to store chips.

Now, if you’d told me six years ago when Joe and I chose a wedding date that my body would eventually require a couple weeks to recuperate from Joe’s birthday, then I wouldn’t have had the wedding eight days after. But, it’s not legally possible to change my marriage date, so the next weekend was devoted to our anniversary- which happened to involve a U2 concert.

Yikes. Here’s the thing- I love music but, sort of, hate concerts. But, you guys! It was U2! That’s basically a check on everyone’s bucket list, so I had to go. The problem? I was still in recovery mode from Joe’s birthday palooza. Literally, the day before the U2 concert, I was in the recliner all day with insane chest pain. (Note- I’m not being an idiot and refusing to get a medical emergency checked. My chest pain comes from EDS/ POTS, and I have a decent understanding of its source. Over the last six years, I’ve learned this weird body better than I ever thought possible.) There were several points that day when Joe offered to sell our concert tickets on Facebook. But, it was our anniversary trip. I could have cancelled. Perhaps it would have been wise to cancel.

But, to be entirely honest, I’ve lost enough to illness. My marriage has lost enough to illness. If there is a possible way for Joe and I to do something (within reason, of course), then we’re going to do it. Friends, here’s the truth. I didn’t feel great. The concert was outside. U2 came on a couple hours later than expected. It was hot. Joe and I were both tired (him from pushing my wheelchair in 95 degree weather and me from this new phase of never ending chest pain), but we did it. We saw U2! I’ll be honest; if you watch Bono, and don’t get a little emotional at some point- you’re made of steel. I was already a U2 fan (albeit not a superfan), but I have so much more respect for that group and all they stand for. Fan girl shout out- One Republic opened for U2, and they were the bomb.com!

But . . . you know what? The weekend wasn’t over. After the concert there was still the matter of our anniversary. Fortunately, Joe and I decided to forgo the whole gift giving/ fancy dinner thing and instead spend a couple nights in Louisville. That meant I got two nights of 10+ hours sleep (Why do I always sleep better in a hotel? I refuse to admit that it might be the lack of the four-legged bed hog named Zoey that sleeps between Joe and I.) Obviously, when we made our plan, we didn’t know that I was going to be very much on the struggle bus. But, I was so grateful for those two nights of rest.

Here’s my point. Being chronically ill complicates every aspect of life. My marriage is permanently marked by the stain of illness. Joe asks how I’m feeling/ doing every single day- because my health is unfortunately a constant theme. However, Joe and I have made a commitment to having all the fun we can in our time together. Sometimes, that means taking a chance on a concert when I feel like dirt. Other times that means going honky tonking in Nashville the night before a serious doctor’s appointment at Vanderbilt. Friends, I’m far from a relationship/ general life expert, but I still have advice. Take every chance for fun. Put yourself in situations that might be hard but will also be fabulous. Obviously, make sure you’re with someone who will understand if you have to bail, but take the chance that the entire experience could be wonderful.

While I’m giving advice- here’s a little more. I used Snookie (the wheelchair) in order to enjoy the concert. That wasn’t in the original plan, but she became necessary. Once we realized that I was feeling rough on Thursday, we called the venue to see if disabled seating was available. This required us to drive to Louisville a little early in order to swap our tickets. Switching to accessible seating also meant we were on Club Level, so I could go inside and cool off under air conditioning as needed. Also, by taking Snookie to the concert on Friday, I saved what little energy I had available in order to enjoy Saturday/ Sunday in Louisville.

My memories from the U2 concert? Priceless. I wheelchair danced like an idiot. I sang along loudly and off-key with Joe. (We sort of specialize in both loud and off-key singing.) My weekend memories with my husband are just as special. This life is rarely simple, but I am so glad that Joe and I have made enjoying each other a priority. My challenge for each of you is that you take a risk in order to enjoy time with someone special to you. Maybe that’s going on a vacation to a whole new place (if so, I want to hear all about it!) or maybe that’s staying up late to watch a movie that will make you both laugh until your sides hurt. Do what works for you, but take a chance on something fun with someone who matters (family, friends, significant other).

By the way, we’ve already bought tickets for a Bruno Mars concert in Louisville this September. (Thank goodness, the Yum! Center is indoors.) The fun and insanity continue. Live it up, friends.

Peace, love, and health.

I’m Pretty Sure You Want This Book.

This (link at the bottom) is my book. Okay, technically, it’s Joe’s book too, because he did a lot of work on it. But since I’m the person with the chronic illness and this is a book about chronic illness- well, I’m a little emotionally attached. Just in case you’re thinking you don’t need this book or don’t especially want it, humor me while I make my case.

So, here are the “Crazy, Chronic Reasons Why You (might) Want to Read This Book.”

  1. It’s a beautiful love story. Okay, it’s not exactly a beautiful love story. As a matter of fact, I mention bodily functions that are neither beautiful nor lovely a couple times. However, Joe and I wrote this together. He literally saw my desire to write a book and not only encouraged it- he did a lot of the work. We talked through every chapter together before I wrote it. He physically typed a lot of the book, because my crazy, dislocating hands wouldn’t allow me. We have called ourselves #TeamEarly from the beginning, and this collaboration showcases exactly why. We work together. We laugh together- and, when necessary, we cry together. So, while a book instructing you with how to cope with very public and very projectile vomit isn’t exactly romantic, the love and cooperation that went into each page certainly is.
  2. It’s likely to boost your confidence. Do you want to know why it will boost your confidence? Because as you read through this book and experience our raw honesty, there will be times when you’ll think, “I would never be dumb enough to get myself in that situation.” See? You’ll feel smarter. Okay, seriously, this book talks about embarrassing symptoms that so many of us face- brain fog, incontinence, mobility struggles, etc. Let’s be honest- I’m about as graceful as an elephant changing underpants. I have a long history of blunders to share. I will give you tips to saving face as much as possible when your body decides to be a jerk in the least convenient of places. Personally, I always feel more confident when I have a contingency plan.
  3. People seem to actually like the book. You guys, I have reviews, and they’re not bad. They’re actually, well, great! Even more impressively, to the best of my knowledge I am not related (by blood nor marriage) to anyone who has reviewed my book. You never know when you write something if it will reach your audience in the way you hope. There’s a chance that Joe and I have been drafting and typing our little hearts out on a project that stinks. But . . . it’s beginning to look like it doesn’t. I actually believe we may have accurately portrayed this life in a way that others can relate.
  4. It will make you cool. Okay, there are many words that could describe me, and “cool” will never be one of them. I will never listen to the right music or understand pop culture references. However, illness has made me more sensitive to the needs of my chronically ill/ disabled friends. We have done our best to convey to significant others, caregivers, friends, congregations, and ‘that lady from WalMart’ how to be aware of the needs of others. And, seriously, what’s cooler than compassion? Am I right?
  5. I will appreciate your support forever. Everyone isn’t in a place where they can buy a book. I understand that completely. Please know that every word of encouragement, like, and share mean the world to me. My Crazy, Chronic Life blog audience was the driving force behind this book, and your love and encouragement help me keep my head above water on the hardest days.

Friends, each of you have encouraged Joe and I throughout this process, and we truly appreciate it. (I considered telling everyone that to show our gratitude Joe would be available to sing at the wedding of anyone who buys our book. Strangely, he didn’t consent to that.) So, one more time for the people in the back- my book link is below. Try an excerpt. See if it’s for you- or if it might help someone you know.

Peace, love, and health to each of you.

We’re Going to Disney World- and I have to take EDS with me.

Y’all, I’m going back to Disney World in a few days, and I am beyond excited. Okay, at this exact moment, I’m beyond stressed. I hate packing. I hate preparing to leave. I’ll sum it up like this- Tonight’s dinner came from Dollar Tree, because I was too tired to walk through the grocery store. (I bought frozen vegetables. I feel like I deserve a medal for not deciding tonight’s dinner would be peach rings and circus peanuts.) I’m trying to rest, so I’ll feel decent once we get to Disney. But, seriously, who has time to rest when they’re preparing for a trip?

I’m going to let all of you in on a secret. Last year’s Disney trip wasn’t exactly stellar. Don’t get me wrong; Joe and I had a great time. But I sort of fell apart. My neck developed new pain (I didn’t think that was possible) so severe that I actually lost vision in one eye for a while. That whole situation never fully resolved. (Although, both eyes work again, thankfully.) I missed an entire day of fun, because I couldn’t keep food down. I’m guessing my problem was a combination of dehydration and pain, but I’m not entirely sure. The skin on my forearms literally fell off, because EDS skin and vinyl arm rests on wheelchairs (with the addition of 100 degree Florida heat) are apparently opposed to one another. In short, I was a mess.

In order to go back to the Most Magical Place On Earth, I’ve had to make a few changes. And since a lot of my blog readers are also living the chronic life, I thought I’d share my changes in hopes they’ll help someone else enjoy their vacation with relatively few medical meltdowns.

I’m leaving Snookie at home.

If you’re new to the blog, you might be wondering why I’m leaving my (very unfortunately named) child at home. Snookie is my wheelchair, and she’s basically been my bestie for the past three years. BUT, I’ve outgrown her in terms of needs. (Yes, I can still fit myself into Snooks.) Snookie, though fabulous, is a very bumpy ride, and Disney World tends to have rough pavement anyway. My neck and back are no longer well-suited for the bumpiness of a manual wheelchair. (I’m sure Joe’s back is duly grateful.)

Instead, I’m renting a scooter for the first time. I ran across an amazing company called “Disney World Scooter Rental” that will deliver a scooter to my hotel and provide on-site user training (Yikes! You can expect to see a video of that hot mess.). I came across DWSR when I saw a post they had made defending their clients who need to use mobility devices in the park. They were responding to a comment on their site about how those with disabilities should just stay home. (People are jerks sometimes, am I right?) Anyway, DWSR replied to the comment in defense of all of us who deserve to enjoy their vacation just as much as our able-bodied counterparts. I instantly fell in love with the company, and I am excited to try their services. They’ve already been awesome at answering my questions when I needed to find a scooter model to rent that wasn’t difficult on my upper body to maneuver. (The scooters that require you to push a button with your thumb to accelerate cause my thumbs to dislocate.) I’ll leave a full review after the trip, but I’m expecting this to be a great experience.

For those of you wondering, the new wheelchair will be named after another super obnoxious reality star- Abby Lee. (Although, I think the real AL is serving time in prison now, so maybe I should name her Free Abby Lee instead.)

Amazon Prime delivers to Disney.

I love Amazon Prime. I mean, it’s shameful how much stuff I purchase via Prime. I have no clue why this hasn’t occurred to me sooner, but I can order stuff through Prime to be sent to my hotel! Why is this so exciting? Last year, I struggled with hydration. Yes, you can get free water at any counter service restaurant in the parks. However, my body isn’t patient enough to wait until I get up, get ready, wait in line for the bus and security, and actually get into the park before I start hydrating. Not to mention that water isn’t exactly the gold standard for hydration when you’re medically complicated. (Electrolytes are important, kids.) My problem last year was that I would tell Joe, “No, I’m fine. I can finish my water bottle from last night rather than buy a Gatorade for $4 before we leave the hotel.” Then, I would get to the park and already be dehydrated, tachycardic, and nauseous from the Florida heat before we started our day.

This year, I’ve ordered water, Gatorade, and breakfast bars for our hotel room. I contacted Disney to make sure this is okay, and they sent me the address (and a warning that I might have to pay a $5 handling fee- basically the cost of 1 gatorade).

For those of you keeping score, that means I’ve found an affordable solution to my Disney related hydration issues as well.

Hot/ Cold packs- duh.

I am nothing without my heating pad and ice packs. I have no clue why it didn’t occur to me to take them with me on vacation. Last year, I was trying to “ice” my head and neck with the condensation on my Disney mug. Not exactly helpful. This year, I’ve bought a few hot/ cold packs (that can be frozen or microwave) to take with me. I don’t plan to take them with me into the parks- although that could happen. My plan is to use them in the evening when I’m trying to melt off some of the pain of the day. Again, I’m not sure why I didn’t think of this sooner.

I’ve addressed mobility, hydration, and pain management issues from last year. It’s not a perfect plan, because the reality of vacation with a chronic illness is that anything can happen. However, I’m learning every year. Joe and I love Disney World, and I don’t plan to give up our trips without one heck of a fight. If you want to join us on our trip, make sure you like my blogger page- CrazyChronicLife We plan to do some live videos of the things we see and do at WDW. I’ll upload pictures, videos, and live events to the page.

Also, it’s a little early to be spilling these particular beans, but Joe and I are planning to release our co-authored chronic illness guidebook as soon as we return from Disney World. I’ll give more details as we get closer to the release date, so, for now, just join us for vacationing fun.

Peace. Love. Health.
And, oh yeah, Mouse Ears.

Wedded Bliss Can Be Hit or Miss

There was a moment in the first months after Joe and I married that I realized that the whole marriage process had left me completely unprepared for marriage. I was cleaning the bathroom floor in our teeny apartment (Seriously, do males think the toilet is merely a suggestion for their urinary pursuits?), and the absurdity of the whole dating/ engagement/ wedding process hit me. Joe and I had a great time dating. We went to sporting events, festivals, historical landmarks, . . . truly anything and everything we wanted to experience together we did. Then there was the engagement/ wedding time. It was filled with teas and brunches, hair appointments and fake nails, vows and ceremonies. And, essentially, none of those things occur in real life. Real life (at its rawest and most real anyway) is filled with laundry, mystery stains on the bathroom floor, and the never-ending need to prepare another meal.

Don’t get me wrong. Marriage has enough redeeming qualities to make up for the gag-worthy moments. It’s a great feeling to know that your best friend will be beside you as you fall asleep at night or that the person who always makes you laugh will be joining you for dinner forever. I wouldn’t trade all that marriage is in order to get rid of the responsibilities that come along with it. I just realize there is very little leading up to marriage that has anything to do with the actual act of being married.

Before I got married there was a bridal brunch- now there is coffee and Facebook.

Yep. There was a legit bridal brunch in my honor before my wedding. There was a yummy coffee flavored punch out of a beautiful crystal bowl. I wore heels and pearls and wiped my mouth on dainty embroidered napkins. I was fairly confident I had reached the pinnacle of being a lady. Now, I stumble out of bed at the last possible minute I possibly can and still make it to wherever I have to go. I wear an odd assortment of Joe’s clothes (because boy sweatpants and t-shirts are the most comfortable articles of clothing ever). I drink coffee (or I make coffee and leave it setting next to me because I’m too tired to remember to drink it) and peruse Facebook statuses in silence. I don’t talk, and if Joe speaks (or God forbid, sings) I grunt in response.

I was given a beautiful collection of silver, china, and crystal. We use paper towels as much as possible.

When you get married you get a lot of gifts that you will probably never find a reason to use. I remember receiving beautiful crystal pitchers and china pieces and imagining the elaborate dinner parties I was going to have. Yeah, um no. I’m not a huge fan of plastic/ styrofoam plates since they’re far from environmentally friendly, so we rely on a lot of paper towels . . . or anything dishwasher safe.

That beautiful bridal wardrobe is irrelevant in real life.

I have an awesome collection of dresses that I bought during the time leading up to my wedding. I recently loaned all those dresses out for a couple months, and I can honestly say I didn’t miss them once. All those beautiful pastel dresses are just not necessary for my life now. I haven’t had on high heels in years, and it would probably take me the better part of a day to remember where I put my pearls. During my engagement I bought those dresses because that is how I imagined a “real grown up” would dress. Yeah, I’m living real grown up life now, and it’s all about what is clean and what is comfortable.

There were solemn vows and a reverent, “I do.”

Again, don’t misunderstand. I meant every word of the vow I made to my husband. I have every intention of holding up my end of “for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health . . .,” but I had no idea what any of those things meant. I thought sickness was a temporary thing that happened then got better- or that it didn’t happen for a really long time. I thought that people were either rich or poor or somewhere in the middle- not that life went in cycles of relative comfort and then just way too many bills.

In truth, I thought life would keep running along just as it had been during dating and engagement. I knew there would be laundry and meals to cook, but I didn’t realize I would be trying to do those things (with my husband’s help- I’m not insinuating that I’m on my own in all things domestic) with absolutely no energy. I didn’t know that in order to keep up with the speed of our dating lives I would be expending every ounce of vitality and enthusiasm I possess. Life is manageable, but it’s just so very different from what I imagined.
A wedding is a bizarre way to start a marriage. It would probably be more appropriate if the soon-to-be- wed couple spent a week on the clean-up crew of a high school football camp. I mean, at least there would be a little more on the job training for the messiness of life than what a wedding offers. However, because we are all a bit unprepared when we get married . . . that means it’s not just me. I’m not the only one that jumped into the deep end and can barely tread water!

You see, when I became sick after I got married, I was so ashamed. I felt like I had tricked Joe, because I changed so much after he married me. It seemed only fair that I should remain the same person I had been throughout our dating life, but illness took that from me. There were so many times that I have wished I could go back before the wedding and tell Joe all that I know that- at least then he could make an informed decision.

It has occurred to me recently, however, that none of us really know what we are doing when we get married. We all enter marriage with the absolute best intentions. We plan to love our spouse the best way we know how, and we try and fail and try again and succeed a million times on our way to that goal. I’m not saying I will never feel guilty again that I stuck Joe with a chronically ill wife. There will be those days from time to time. I am saying that I have forgiven myself for getting sick and all the ways it has affected those around me. Yes, I surprised Joe by becoming sick (and staying sick) in the first couple weeks of our marriage. But, then again, I probably surprised him a million other ways too.

So, yeah, there have been a lot of surprises after Joe and I have gotten married. I wake up super grumpy. Animated movies make me cry. I get up multiple times during the night to brush my teeth. I only own about three pairs of socks. Joe forgets to close drawers after he opens them. He refuses to sleep under a sheet (but will sleep under a blanket?). He puts ketchup on green beans and doesn’t like dessert (more for me!). Obviously, some surprises are more fun than others, but I’m enjoying our life together- so I’ll deal with the surprises as they come.

Peace, love, and health.

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