Thanksgiving Thoughts from My Husband

Last week, I was felled by a migraine. It started as just a headache while I was at the office but got progressively worse, by the time I got home, the nausea, light/sound/smell sensitivity had hit and I knew I was done for. I took a single Advil, put on sweatpants and laid down on the couch. I had let Brad know that my headache was now migraine. When he got home from work he came in quietly and kept the light off. Then he snuggled up on the couch with me and just held me.

Brad does a lot for me. He saved my life probably more than once. As I laid there waiting for the migraine to subside, I was thankful to have found and married such as wonderful man.

He’s not too bad to look at either 😉

I’ve been trying to get him to write a blog post for me occasionally, but he continues to decline. Then I found Samantha’s Blogger Men Tell All link up where she provides themed prompt questions and blogger husbands, fiances, boyfriends or male friends/relatives answer the questions. I sent this week’s set to Brad and he answered them below, my commentary will appear in [brackets] Continue reading

The Driver’s Seat

For a good chunk of my childhood, the family cars were: Dad’s truck and Mom’s van. But it never really mattered which vehicle we were in, if dad was going, dad was driving.

I never questioned this as a kid. When I was learning to drive, I asked my dad about it. I can’t remember his exact answer, but contributing factors included: his family’s dynamic, my mom’s driver/passenger personality and the fact that my father sometimes felt car sick in the passenger seat. I’d be willing to bet that most in my generation experienced the same parental dynamic, when together, dad drives.

I knew girls in college who would get in the passenger seat of their own cars to allow their boyfriends to drive. I wasn’t that type of girl. My car was mine. I bought it, I maintained it and I paid the insurance on it… I was going to drive it. It didn’t hurt that I drove stick-shift cars until my sophomore year of college and for the most part my peers didn’t know how and I wasn’t going to let them screw up my transmission trying to learn. During the entire time that Brad and I were dating, he only drove my car when I was teaching him how to drive stick shift.

In our marriage, there isn’t a “passenger spouse” and a “driver spouse.” There are two drivers. Brad and I tend to take the more fuel-efficient car when we go places… most recently that became my car, the Volt. When we get in my car to go somewhere, there’s typically no question who is going to drive. I know that Brad enjoys driving my car so sometimes I offer for him to drive.

So when we hopped in the car earlier this week for a quick Chipotle run, Brad decided to be a goof and ride in the backseat. Unbeknownst to me, he took a picture and posted to Facebook about riding in the back seat to go to Chipotle and that it was comfortable back there. Some of the comments it got made me scratch my head. Primarily: “Way to go Rachel!”

Way to go on what? On driving? On having a cool car? On properly placing my hands at 10 and 2 (which also received a comment)? On going out for Chipotle instead of cooking?

Then there was a comment from someone about enjoying it when he “lets” his wife drive.

When i read it, I said to Brad, “You don’t ‘let’ me drive. It’s ‘my’ car.”

I’m a woman with wheels. I drive places. I just happen to be married to a guy who occasionally likes to ride in the backseat.

Is it really that unusual?

Linking up with The Grits Blog.

Three Years Thriving

When I crawled out of bed three years ago yesterday, I felt awful. I hadn’t slept well, I had woken up at least four times to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night. When I had finished showering in the morning, I immediately threw up. That was the morning that Brad saved my life by forcing me to make an appointment with the doctor.

When I got out of bed yesterday morning, I had slept well, I woke up once in the night to check my blood sugar. When I had finished showering, I brushed my teeth. Yesterday morning, and many mornings over the past 3 years, I felt good. I felt alive. And that’s not something I take lightly.

I might not be a “morning person” but I’m happy to wake up every morning and I owe that to my husband who made me go to the doctor and ended up saving my life.

August 11, 2011 was the day that I was diagnosed with type 1 diabetes.

Yesterday passed quietly, without celebration, but with an interesting level of peace with my body.

The fact that my own immune system tried to kill me is not forgotten and even three years later, I worry about what other damage may have been done in the weeks that I was sick. The unfortunate fact is that I was sick for awhile after my pancreas failed and we didn’t think to get me checked for diabetes because 1.) We didn’t know the symptoms and 2.) No one expects that the sick 22-year-old could have type 1 diabetes… because people seem to think it only happens in kids.

Yesterday was my 3rd diaversary. I doubt that as the years pass, my level of gratitude to my husband for saving my life and to the doctor who stumbled onto a diabetes diagnosis will lessen. My pride in thriving over the past three years, in a body that wanted to quit, continues to grow. Diabetes is one of few diseases where the patient is the one in charge of its treatment, the one administering medicine, the one running diagnostic tests. I may have support, but staying alive and being healthy is a one-woman job for me.

I would love to see a cure in my lifetime, but as I’ve said before, I’m not holding my breath. I will “settle” for many healthy years with the husband who saved me.

Other Reading: Continue reading

Three Years

Today is Brad’s and my third wedding anniversary.

Three years.

A lot can happen in three years. A lot.

Since the day those young kids, who actually looked like their passport photos, made vows to each other a lot of things have changed… but not the vows.

2011

Part of our vows was a promise to grow together. In the past three years we’ve both grown, on our own and with each other. Continue reading

Back From Vacation & May Reads

I’m working on settling back into a routine after a long weekend celebrating our 3rd anniversary (which is actually tomorrow!).

I’m now that I’m back to work, the fact that I’m back from vacation got majorly rubbed in by links to vacation articles in the various email newsletters I receive. Article titles like “Why Taking a Vacation Can Make You Better At Your Job” (here’s the link to that.) and “Don’t Set Yourself Up For a Stressful Vacation” just say to me: Hey Rachel! You’re not on vacation anymore!

It was good for us though, very nice to get away for a couple of days, just the two of us. I know that sounds weird because we don’t have kids so it’s usually just the two of us, but often when we travel there’s family or friends involved… which is a good thing. But as far as anniversary travel goes, I liked it being just us.

Anyway, we had a great time and I’ll blog about that later.

Here’s a sneak peek:

  

Onto the May Reads!
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