Preface
This is not Sara you are reading today.
Or tonight.
I suppose that the time of the reading is irrelevant...
The point is that this is Jeremy. If you've read previous entries, you may have seen passing reference to me. I'm the husband. The significant other. You're probably used to Sara's writing and her personality. In order to make the change of voice slightly less jarring, we're going to have to get some things out of the way up front so that you have an idea of what you're dealing with when I'm driving the word machine; a few disclaimers, if you will. Then you can't say I didn't warn you.
First off, I like parenthesis, footnotes(1), and ellipsis (the three dots when you trail off...)
I just used all three in their own explanation. That's how much I like them.
Secondly, I am not normal. I am wired in a weird way (that was a fun sentence to type). I am able to operate on minimal sleep for extended periods of time. It's a blessing and a curse. I've been told that I am scary and intimidating until people get to know me (if I let them). Once we get to the meat of the post, keep in mind that I am probably a few standard deviations from the mean. Your results may vary. Adjust cooking times for high altitude or lower wattage ovens. If you feel like you don't get something, it's okay; there may not have been anything to get in the first place(2).
Thirdly, I grew up as a pessimist. I got a little better. I now (half-jokingly) refer to myself as a "bitter optimist." Everything will work out fine in the end, but until then, it's gonna suck. I'm working on it.
Finally, I have been over thinking this for too long (3). Sara asked me to write a post awhile ago and I said yes and set dates to do it and they passed. What exactly do I write? Should I be lighthearted and funny? Brutally honest? Avoid certain topics altogether? What do I even say? In the end it came down to the fact that I just needed so sit down and do it. So here I am. Fasten your seat belts and return your tray tables to the full upright position. Let's get into it.
The Rest
Twice.
That probably qualifies me for membership in a pretty small (and mildly depressing) club. Not a lot of people can say that. Not a lot of people should ever have to say that. At all. Even once.
I am not the type to ask for help. I'm almost literally impossible to take care of. Just ask Sara. But I will help you even if it means a horrible inconvenience to me. You can ask a lot of people about that. I am not sure why. There are probably a number of reasons. We can ask the psychiatrist later if you really want to...
I am going to explain this so you can see more of what happens in our life. This is not for any attention or accolades for me. I want no flattery. If you want to help, help her. This is the only way I know how to do things.
How do I cope with her illness (or disease, or infection, or whatever the correct way to say it is)?
I do the rest.
Some days, that means what it does in any "normal" relationship (4). We both work on things together, like putting kids to bed, shopping, cleaning, or whatever. However, there aren't a lot of normal days, at least not consecutively. Don't get me wrong; it's not bad all the time, by any means. Things are getting better. The fact that she can be at home and do treatment is great. It's nothing like having her quarantined for a week because she's literally emitting enough radiation that it would cause harm to people. We can talk about that week some other time.
When she decides to go ahead with the treatment of shots three times a week, but can't bring herself to do the actual shot part, I do that even though I hate myself every time. When we have to cancel a vacation because she has to spend a week in the hospital, I print a picture of some scenery to tape on the window and we make s'mores in the stupid hospital so she doesn't feel as bad about us missing our trip. When she has no energy and I get home from work and she's just reading and it looks like some type of snack cracker grenade blew up in my living room, I clean it up. When the kids are on her last nerve at noon, I try to find a way to get home early or send someone over. When I have a brutally long and exhausting day, I take all 4 kids to the grocery store when I get home so that she can have a break. When she spends the night in fevered delusion and has chills and muscle spasms, I sit up and do what she needs and don't sleep at all so that she can sleep a little. When kids wake up at night scared or sick, I get up with them. I sleep on floors next to beds, I go grocery shopping at 2am, I pretend like it doesn't hurt my feelings when she's upset and yells at me that I don't understand because I don't have cancer because I know she didn't mean it and she's just frustrated and I even type stuff like that even though I know she's going to read this.
If our roles were reversed, she'd do it for me.
So no matter how little or how much it is, that's what I do.
The rest.
Footnotes
(2) I make inside jokes and references with no one around that will get them but me. It's for my own amusement. I have to spend a lot of time with me, so I might as well enjoy my company.
(3) Is over-thinking hyphenated or not? Am I over thinking this?
(4) I don't like the word "normal" in general, but specifically in regard to relationships. There are so many variables and so many abnormal things that go into a relationship, that I feel like "normal" is just a relative term and what's normal for one couple may not be for another... It's like when people ask me which video game system is better (I'm an avid gamer, by the way). "Better" means something different to everyone.
