Last Friday, I also received fantastic news about my brother. The experimental treatment he’s on has really made great strides and his test results are looking amazing. Ironically, I received his text while I was sitting in an emergency room in more pain than I can remember going through in a long time.
Thursday, I had a nagging headache. It wouldn’t leave me alone. I wanted nothing more than to go home and sleep it off, but both our kids reached out with issues they wanted to discuss. Fast forward, it’s midnight, my head is screaming and my stomach is decidedly unhappy. I’ve done all I can do parent wise and I try to sleep. My head had other plans. I woke in severe pain several times. I told my Love, I was staying home from work. I didn’t think I could drive there anyway. Since he was taking off the following week, he felt he needed to go in and that playing hookie wasn’t an option. I get it. He’s a stand-up guy. Loyal. Doing what’s right matters to him.
As the day progresses, I get sicker and sicker. I began to think I had stomach flu in addition to the migraine. I kept thinking if it doesn’t let up I’m going to have to go to the doctor. I knew I couldn’t drive and I knew my Love was miles and miles away. I thought about calling another member of my family for a ride. Clearly, I wasn’t thinking properly.
I know I come first. Nothing is more important to my husband than I am. He tells me this all the time. He makes me repeat it on occasion. I knew if I told him ‘come home’, he would have. I was trying to put his need to finish out the work day ahead of my need for him. Big mistake. Huge.
Our daughter was texting and texting and looking at the screen was killing me, so I explained that I was ill and considering asking for a ride to the doctor. She immediately reached out to my Love. He raced home, got me into the car and off we went.
His anger was palpable. Even through the pain, I knew he was seriously pissed that I hadn’t explained just how sick I was. In my mind, I had, but I had also shared my hope anytime it felt even marginally better. I hadn’t realized just how mixed the signals I was sending really were.
Fast forward – I’m being loaded into the ambulance. I knew he was standing outside the door watching. By that time, fear was coming off him in waves. I’m afraid the image of me inside the back of it would haunt him for a long time. He’s mentioned it a few times already.
The first person I saw when they opened the door was my Love’s face. He stayed with me the entire time, even going down with me for the tests. A couple family members showed up, but he still didn’t leave me side. He is my rock.
Once they finally figured out the chemical concoction to get me feeling as close to ‘normal’ as I ever am, they let me go home. I don’t think I was in the car ten minutes before the lecture set in. We now have a ‘signal word’ much like a safe word that will let him know that he needs to come home immediately. I’m sure we aren’t finished with the conversation. I’m still feeling a bit under the weather and I know he’s treating me with kid gloves. Once they come off, I suspect I’ll get an ass beating I won’t soon forget. Don’t tell him, but I’m mostly looking forward to it. I need the punishment to let go of the guilt of scaring him. The guilt of not telling him I needed him. The guilt over considering calling someone else to take me to the doctor when I know I should have turned to him.
Wednesday will be our 34th wedding anniversary. I guess it doesn’t matter how long you’re together, sometimes there will be blunders.