Yesterday, my husband simply looked at me and asked me if I wanted him to take the day off work. He has become so good at reading me, sometimes he knows where I’m headed emotionally before I do.
I thought about it for a minute and my eyes got teary and I croaked, “I just wish I could have one day without HD.”
And there HD was, surrounding me and squeezing me tightly.
Randy picked up the phone, cleared his schedule for the day, and said, “What do you want to do now?” My relief dispelled the suffocating feeling and replaced it with hope.
“Something that normal people do. Like go get coffee.”
So off we went to get coffee. I chose Starbucks because I get to pay with my phone there, and it makes me happy.
We ate scones and hung out like normal people do.
When we got home, I had a project to start on which involved a lot of fine motor skills.
Without waiting for me to try, try, fail and get frustrated, Randy did the cutting, the lining up, and the pasting. He spared me from having to address my motor limitations on that day, my day off from HD.
We went out to eat at a neighborhood restaurant and watched Mark smile at other tables with his mouth full of chocolate pudding. I was not irritated. In fact, all three of us laughed.
Then we went home and watched TV until it was bedtime.
I went to sleep happy, feeling like I had cheated HD out of a day.
But this morning, when I woke up and went to take my poodle outside, I fell down the stairs.
I’m physically OK, but feel beaten up inside because I know that yesterday is over and HD is back. In fact, it never left.
Still, I am grateful to my husband for making yesterday seem like a day off from HD.