It's 2:30 in the morning and I can't sleep. The health issues with my husband are weighing heavily on my mind. Four days from today is the anniversary of my husband's transplant. That was a very challenging time. He inherited a disease from his mother that caused the need for the transplant. It was several years of his health deteriorating and invasive treatments before he received the transplant. It was more of a challenge then either of us wanted to deal with. I always think of the donor family and how hard it must have been for them to suffer such a loss, especially at this time of year. I know the strength it must have taken for them to make the decision to donate his organs. I owe my husband's life and our happiness to people I will never meet.
During the time of his illness and treatments he was so sick that he worked and slept . Everything else fell to me to take care of. Our children were 4 and 9 at the time. During the time he was hospitalized with the transplant I became his primary caretaker. That is after all how I make my living. I know what superior care is and expect no less. I do not accept no excuses. I know how to work the system and have the connections to get what I want. I took excellent care of him.
One thing we encountered during this time was a major change in the dynamics of our relationship. He became my patient, I lost the connection to him as my husband and lover. I applied a clinical and professional approach to his care, I had to in order to survive. We were both aware of it and once he recovered we made a conscious effort to fix it.
We had hoped that he would not inherit the heart disorder that runs in his father's side of the family. That is not the case. His doctor that he sees to maintain his transplant has been blowing him off and telling him that old age and depression were responsible for his symptoms. He's not old, only 47 and he certainly is not depressed. About the same time that I sent him the first email asking about exploring a D/s relationship a good friend of ours finished his medical training and started practicing medicine. He is now treating my husband.
After the first round of tests Doc called me to discuss the results. During the course of the discussion I asked him if the diagnosis meant no more kinky sex. As I said, he is a good friend and was not surprised by the question. This is what his answer was," I'll make you a deal, you keep him alive until I can fix him." Not the deal I would have wished for, but the best I was gonna get. Want to know a sure fire libido killer, how about knowing that what you are doing could kill your partner? It's like ice water to the face, or at least it was for me.
Over the past couple weeks it has become apparent to me that my husband has not been as forthcoming with his symptoms as I would have liked. We had the second round of tests yesterday, he is much sicker then either of us thought. Doc called 1/2 hour after we got home from the hospital to discuss the results and the course of treatment. My husband has major blockages in his heart, we should be hearing from the hospital today to schedule a heart cath with stent placement. Best case scenario would be that that fixes the problem. There is the possibility of things being more complicated then the tests show. He may need open heart surgery.
I can already feel the dynamics changing and not in the direction either of us wants. It was my email that caused my husband to go see Doc and get this issue taken care of, I see that as a positive. Now I just need to be strong enough to walk that fine line between wife and caregiver long enough for Doc to fix him. I'm not sure how I am going to do that, but I don't have any other choice. I love my husband more than words allow me to express and I will do anything to keep him healthy.
Doc, being the friend he is to us is doing everything he can to help us get this done as quickly and easily as possible. I hope you will bear with me if things get a bit vanilla around here.
If the sun shines on you today, take a moment, turn your face up, and really feel the warmth on your skin. No one is promised tomorrow.