Ever wondered how to figure out if your Soulmate was actually your Soulmate?
Well, I can guarantee that my husband is definitely my life partner. When we said “I do” to that sickness and health part, he proved it, and I couldn’t have chosen a better person to experience all facets of life with.
Due to my BRCA and Cancer diagnoses, Randy has had to become :
My Nurse
My Therapist
Super Dad for our kids
Nurse
Let me explain what being my nurse was like, then you can give Randy the bravest husband award. Let me start by walking you through getting a pic line and how to maintenance it. When you are a chemo patient, you get it intravenously on a consistent basis. Since this requires access to the veins, doctors will set their patients up with a way where they don’t have to stab their patients to get an IV every week.
Most of these patients, like my sister, end up with a port. INSERT PICTURE OF PORT HERE A port is a small disc and tub that is implanted under the skin near the clavicle; the tube connects to a vein that goes to the heart. This procedure is done under anesthesia since it involves a lot of cutting and shoving a disc under your skin and messing with veins.
Lucky me, I was pregnant at the time so being under anesthesia was not an option, but I did have an alternative to the port called a Pic Line.
Just like a port, the pic line was also implanted under the skin in the same spot a port would be; the only difference is instead of a disc planted under the skin, a little tube part sticks out of your clavicle the whole time you have it. Mine was from October 2015 to March 2016.
The importance of me explaining all of this is to point out the maintenance behind a pic line.
Unlike a port that stays under the skin, the pic line sticks out of the skin, thus leaving the hole in the chest open to all kinds of wonderful bacteria.
This meant that I had to keep it clean and covered. Daily cleaning treatments were required as well as weekly cleanings that need utilizing medical supplies that came vacuum sealed (even the gloves were individually packaged and had to be put on in the most sterile way possible!). My big, fat/pregnant, bald self became one high-maintenance chick.
My sweet, sweet husband took his job seriously. He cleaned, sterilized, sanitized my pic without fail. He was even so serious about doing things right that I would get fussed at if I did not follow procedure ON MY OWN BODY.
He made sure I was taken care of 24/7, and I couldn’t ask for a better nurse in that regard.
You truly won’t have your relationship tested until you and your partner are stripped to your most vulnerable moments. After my most major surgery, I couldn’t walk for a few days, much less sit up on my own. It was up to my husband of only three years to help me to the bathroom, get me dressed, change my bandages, everything. These are moments that indeed are nowhere near romantic by any means.
There were even days that I was so tired from the treatments that he would remind me to eat, exercise, take my vitamins, everything. I honestly could not have done it without him.
Therapist
Cancer is one of the more emotionally draining illnesses to deal with, and it requires one hell
of a support system.
Randy has been there to hold me while I bawl my eyes out the night that I felt the lump, all the way to now, while I am on my new journey of getting back to a healthier me.
Though I have kept my optimism throughout the whole ordeal that has been my challenging health, I did have the occasional emotional breakdown and healthy cry. What I can say about my husband is that he may not be a big talker, but he sure can give the best hugs.
Super Dad
Another thing that Cancer takes from you is the time from your children.
Clover was only eight months when I was treated for my Thyroid Cancer. That treatment required one surgery and taking an R131 pill that made me radioactive. I had to stay in quarantine for two weeks after taking that pill.
My entire body became poison to anyone around me, so I set up camp in a guest room to wait it out.
This two-week stay made me not only give up time with my family, but I also had to quit breastfeeding because it was no longer safe for Clover.
For the very first time, I had to take a step back from everything and allow Randy to go solo into parenting. Needless to say, he stepped into the role of Mr. Mom with grace and determination.
There were a few nights that I could hear him trying to comfort our baby girl, who hadn’t seen me in days. All I could do was stay silent so she wouldn’t know that I was just in the other room. Not once did I hear him complain.
If you have ever encountered a baby, you know just how demanding they can be. Clover was no exception, and she was terrible at sleeping through the night.
Still, Randy carried on, undoubtedly exhausted from working a full-time job and caring for a baby.
He continued to be an amazing and devoted father throughout my pregnancy for our second child. He would stay with Clover while I made my countless trips to Texas for treatment with my Breast Cancer. I hate to admit, but I did not spend nearly enough time with Clover in her first two years of life. Fortunately, Randy went above and beyond as a dad to where she did not miss out on any love from us.
By the time Rowan was born, I was done with chemo; however, the next challenge for us was my multiple surgeries.
Once again, I missed out on so much precious time with my children and had to leave Randy to pick up the pieces that I had to leave behind. Rowan was barely two weeks old when I had my first mastectomy, so he came with me to Texas so that I could continue Breast Feeding. Clover stayed home with Randy.
I went back and forth for a few months due to complications from my surgery, and again, Randy stayed with the kids.
When Rowan was a year old, I had my second mastectomy and reconstruction. The recovery period for this procedure is about six to eight weeks, with at least two weeks’ stay in the hospital for observation. He stayed with me for the first week but had to get back to work and our children while my mother spent the second week with me.
Again, he was left on his own with our children.
Again, he did what he had always done.
I don’t think our children genuinely know how wonderful he is.
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