pardon me while I mush and gush over my husband, John. last night he gave me yet another shot of Humira, and after the injection was given I just sat for a while and thought about what a great guy he is. I think a lot about his support to me through this illness and in other areas of life. he's just really wonderful.
I was in a relationship quite a few years ago and came down with a sinus infection to end all sinus infections. it was miserable. no amount of antibiotics, rest, and fluids could kick this thing. I had it for at least two months, and it really put a damper on things. I didn't want to go out, I didn't want to stay up late, and I didn't want to do much of anything that didn't involve a couch and a pair of sweatpants. what a drag. well, my boyfriend at the time thought so too. he actually told me one night that he was getting really sick of me. he wanted his fun-loving, healthy girlfriend back. he wanted to go to the bars and hang out with friends and not sit on the couch with a girl in sweatpants. that moment is forever ingrained in my mind, for whatever reason. I was so hurt and disappointed.
but here is John never complaining once about the way life has changed because of my diagnosis. he listens to me complain and cry, he goes to appointments with my rheumatologist and asks thoughtful questions, he gives me shots, but he never ever complains. he definitely has never said he's sick of me. I've apologized for my fatigue, my medical bills, my tears, my bad attitude, but he has never made me feel like I have to. he is just so outrageously wonderful, my husband.