Happy 13th anniversary to me and The Man! And here’s to many, many more!
I’m All For Saving Money, But I Draw The Line At This
A few months ago the big cat was diagnosed with an overactive thyroid, so we’ve been having to give her thyroid medicine twice a day. This afternoon as we were working on our monthly budget, my husband decided to do some research to see if we could get her pills cheaper online.
He found the information he was looking for, and then decided to see what else they had to offer.
“Hey, look!” he exclaimed after a moment, and I glanced up to see a picture of one of my prescriptions displayed on the screen.
“Dude,” I said, “I don’t care how cheap it is, I AM NOT BUYING MY FIBROMYAGLIA MEDICINE FROM PETMEDS.COM!”
And This Is Why God Made Husbands
It’s hard enough, dealing with this chronic illness on days when I am spiking a 9 or a 10 on the pain scale. But often I find myself grieving for the little things this illness has taken away from me.
My hands used to be my favorite physical feature, petite and elegant. Now they are constantly swollen so badly that I can’t remember the last time I was able to wear my engagement ring.
I used to have a great walk, confident, graceful, and easy. Now it’s more of a shuffling, lumbering limp.
And along with my hands, my feet are also really swollen, so much so that they no longer fit in my Birkenstocks, which meant that now I officially had zero pairs of shoes I could wear that would not hurt my feet.
I was crying about this in the bathtub last night, when my husband came in to see me. I told him about my shoes and he immediately said, “Well, baby, why don’t we adjust the buckles to make them a little looser?”
So he did.
And then I had my favorite shoes back again, and can now walk with a little less pain.
And then world became just a teeny, tiny bit brighter.
And Then My Head Exploded
My husband and I spent this afternoon running around, doing errands. As we were driving down the road, sun shining, breezes blowing, he began to speak.
“I saw,” he began thoughtfully, “as tastefully as something like this could be done, someone playing the kazoo with their vagina.”
Me: …………
Me: ———
Me: “WHAT?! WHERE IN THE WORLD DID YOU SEE SOMETHING LIKE THAT?!”
“Hey!” he protested, “I saw it on a talent show. It’s not like this was some dark, hidden corner of the Internet. This was on TV!”
“I have no idea what to say to that,” I told him, as I watched all the pieces of my brain float out the window and land on the side of the road.
“And it’s not like it was some kind of trashy, trailer-park woman, either,” he continued. “You know, it was a nice, well-dressed woman-someone you might see in church.”
And then I thought for a few minutes, about how long it’s been since we’ve been to any church, about how even the idea of church makes me feel as though I’m breaking out in hives, and about my problems with the whole concept of organized religion in general.
“You know,” I said thoughtfully, “that would be a church I might actually attend.”
It Must Be Love
So I went to get another foot detox this morning, and since my husband was just coming out of a massage as my appointment started, he decided to stick around and see for himself all the weird goo that comes out of my feet. (I don’t know why. I mean, I adore my husband, but no way would I stick around to see disgusting crap come out of his feet. Blech!)
It took a while to get the whole process going, but soon the ick was flowing freely, and my husband and the therapist were fascinated.
“Ooh, look,” he said, about 20 minutes into the process, “you’ve got all these really gross rings around your feet. Cool.”
“Oh yeah,” I replied. “I’m like my own, disgusting planet.”
“Exactly!” he agreed.
“Well it’s nice to know that, even after all these years, I’ve still got some mystery left,” I told him.
“I know,” he said. “Who knew that you were filled with so much YUCK?!”
13 Years Later, And We’ve Still Got That Magic
Yesterday.
Me: (lying on the couch, attempting to relax)
Me: (unable to do so, because of the pounding, repetitive baseline that has been emanating from my husband’s office for what seems like the past 7 years)
So I went to his office to share with him my nervous breakdown due to sensory overwhelm investigate
My husband: “Hey, baby, what’s up?”
Me: “Your music makes me want to stab myself in the face.”
My husband: “Excuse me?”
Me: “It sounds like you’ve just been listening to the same song OVER AND OVER AND OVER AGAIN for like, the past hour. Dar nar nar nar NAR NAR! Dar nar nar nar NAR NAR! What is that?”
My husband: (checking iTunes): “It is a jam session by Albert Collins. Apparently it’s been playing for 34 minutes, and it has 22 minutes left to go.”
Me: (whimpering)
My husband: “It’s great. I love it.”
Me: “No. It’s like someone is taking a sledgehammer to my spine.”
My husband: “Cool! Now I know what to play on our next car trip.”
Hm, No Wonder I Have Money Issues
Yesterday my husband and I were discussing money, and he said he thought it would be a good idea to try out one of those websites that helps you track your finances. I said I thought that was a good idea too, and asked if he had a particular site in mind.
“I do,” he said. “It’s called ‘Mint’.”
” ‘Mint” as in ‘mint chocolate’?” I asked, excitedly.
“Well, yes,” replied my husband, heroically controlling his laughter. “But also ‘mint’ as in, ‘the place where they store money’.”
And The Two Shall Become One
My Husband: “Have you ever been swept away by a wave of OCD so strong that it carried you to one complete extreme in the way that you did something, only to have it sweep you back later and compel you to completely undo the complex organizational system it forced you to construct in the first place?”
Me: “Uh, you’ve pretty much just described my entire life right there.”
Why I Love My Husband So Much: Reason 5
Image courtesy of FreeDigitalPhotos.net.
He is totally unfazed when I call him up at work to ask him urgent questions such as, “Which is funnier-tomatoes or cucumbers?” And then actually gives me a helpful, thought-out response.
Why I Love My Husband So Much: Reason 4
Image courtesy of Free Foto.
He is quite the Renaissance Man.
He can receive the following text from me:
“If I’m asking myself, ‘How much pain should I be able to tolerate before I take any meds?’, is that a sign that I should be taking some meds?
Also: BUNNIES!”
and be just as happy to hear the one (that I am asking for help in taking care of myself) as he is to hear the other (signs of the return of spring).
