For better or for worse

Before I begin. I have no regrets, the good times definitely make any bad worthwhile.

We made the traditional promise except for the bit about obeying, I mean to hold to my vows and do intend to "till death do us part" and I devoutly hope nobody who knows me will read this. I am venting - else who and how can I say all this to?

When I'm asked, how are you (plural), how can I say that you're poorly or that we are due back in for another op, that I fear one of these days you won't be coming back from surgery? However badly I worry, it is worse for you. I see you making a huge effort to pull the courage out from somewhere so you can smile at the nurse and give her your full name, date of birth, medical history.

This is life. Shit happens kiddo, suck it up and get on with it. On the large scale of things we are nowhere near the 'unbearable' end of the spectrum.

How hard it is for you, that you have to visit the hospital regularly. Knowing each visit will mean at least a needle, taking blood, and, if fate has it, a major operation and the resulting slog of recuperation.

You are so tired most of the time. I get so impatient so quickly-I'm sorry it shows, you're not sooking I know. We need to find some way to build up your strength and endurance otherwise how will you recover from surgery?

At times I think how unfair it is that you are not in the best of health. Unfair to you, as you can't do all the things you want to do; life has dealt you a few poor hands, you claw your way back then your health lets you down before you can climb any significant distance up. Unfair to me, life is on hold while we try to fix your body, no chance of children, selfishly I do not want to have to take care of you, this way, so early in life!

Then again I know that if we did have kids, it would add a layer of complication to me being able to work, travel, stay by your bedside. At this point all I need to worry about is doing laundry every little while so we have clean clothes, feed the dog and chooks once a day.

There are stories of other courageous survivors-one man who lost all limbs, kids with leukemia, all those acid-attacked women in Pakistan. Everyone has their own burden, their battle to fight. At least we are us. We will get through this.

As I write this we are in the emergency department waiting for the results of the CT scan. "We'll have a look at your scans and work out a plan" is, at this point in time, one of the more ominous phrases I have ever heard.

Waiting. Is not fun.

You are afraid, as am I. What is going to hit us now? I tell you and promise myself that we will get through this. Somehow.