Can I just say that I am a very lucky woman?
In January of 1969 at the tender age of 16 , I met my life's partner and forty years later, he's still right here by my side. Yesterday, as I spent post-treatment day six on the couch, he texted me several times. "How are you doing today?" I confessed that early in the morning I had started laundry and vacuumed cat hair off the couch, and now I was pretty much confined to the couch. He texted me, "Quit it! You push it, you pay!" We discussed plans for dinner, he texted back, "I'll cook. You relax."
And he did. He came home after a long day at work, cooked dinner, brought it to me on a tray, made me a cocktail of half a glass of fruit punch flavored Gatorade and half water with three ice cubes, cleaned up the kitchen and helped me fold the pile of laundry on the bed before we sat down to watch Dancing With the Stars on TiVo. (I really don't want to be hooked on that show this season! Please!!!)
That was just last night.
He takes care of the cat litter boxes, makes sure we get the trash out on Tuesday mornings, constantly keeps the kitchen picked up, takes my Mom grocery shopping, makes most of the meals these days, vacuums and, of course, waits on me. That's all when he's home. He leaves the house by 7:00 each morning and returns usually around 6:00 pm. Once in a while I can tell he's feeling overwhelmed because I know him so well, but he doesn't complain. He is still by my side, still doting on me, still loving me, still my rock.