'The Husband' - because you deserve a shoutout

 I've been sleeping a lot the past few days; lunchtime naps and late afternoon naps - often sleeping when the boys come home from nursery (enter mum guilt!) but I knew that this must mean I am approaching yet another hurdle. 

I was correct - my surgeon confirmed on Tuesday that I have a high infection and therefore will need to be on antibiotics over Christmas. Whilst I was there I mentioned to him that I was experiencing pelvic pain, not only from the obvious coccyx area, but now at the front. After much discussing and graphic embarrassment (on my part) my surgeon suggested that this must be due to something that he did during the surgery and has referred me to a pelvic consultant (consultant number five!) to get the problem looked at. 
I spoke to the pelvic consultant today and in her words, my nerves are 'pissed off' due to the impact of the coccygectomy and she will need to try various methods to 'wake them up' - some of the methods were explained to me; and I can only say that it's lucky that after having two children and numerous smear tests I'm not a prude - because it looks like it's going to be one hell of a start of the year for me. I explained the methods to my husband and he asked if he could 'watch' the appointment. I'll leave you to fill in the blanks using your imagination! 

The current feeling is bittersweet - I now know why I have been sleeping like a baby for the last week - my poor body is fighting two infections, whilst trying to fuse all the cells, tissue and muscles from the surgery and is getting over the trauma of the operation. However, it's just a reminder to me that although the operation was two months ago, I'm still dealing with the consequences and life will not go back to normal, if ever. A new normal perhaps but I still have a long way to go. Then I mentally shake myself and say 'It's only been two months!! - that's no time at all!' - I should be proud of how far my body has come. 

My husband waited in the car whilst I had my appointment with my nurse and when I returned with the news that I also had a urine infection - yes on top of everything else!- due to the pelvic problems, I sighed and mumbled something about not getting a break - he looked at me and said 'it's nothing you haven't fought before, just another battle for you to win'. I love that about him, his continuous support and push for me to carry on, not give up and not let this beat me. 

It reminded me of one of my favorite sayings;  ' nothing is that bad that you can't put your lipstick on for'. I heard that shortly after my most recent operation and this time around I've made sure that no matter how I plan to spend that day in recovery - be it in bed, on the sofa, or out for a short walk - I can still stick in my earrings, stick on some of my fancy face serum and my favorite Jo Malone perfume just to feel like myself again whilst I do it. My husband recently bought me some beautiful pyjamas and they were so lovely that I put them away for a 'special occasion' - he told me that everyday is technically a special occasion, I'm here, I'm recovering and I deserve to feel special in my new pyjamas - and I thought darn it! it may be only a Wednesday night but I'm worth it! and that is exactly how he makes me feel. ( Yes, I made myself cringe there too - don't worry.) 

We've been together for nearly eight years and haven't yet felt the seven year itch - yet!
We met in 2013 - I was on holiday in Gran Canaria with a friend and went out one night, eventually settling at a popular bar - as I was walking back from buying a round of drinks, I was approached by a lady who was dancing in the bar and was trying to get me to dance with her - trying to be polite, I half danced and she told me to put them down so we could do a shot together - eight years on, we now know this to be my future mother in law. From the corner of my eye, I could see my friend was talking to some blonde curly haired guy and eventually carrying my drinks over I approached them to introduce myself. Said curly haired guy asked if I had a boyfriend, which I confirmed I didn't;  and he suddenly grabbed my hand, kissed it and said 'enchanté ' - pre 'me too' movement I'd like to add - I don't think you could get away with kissing random girls hands now, unless they wanted you to - and I wouldn't mind but I can bet a tenner that he had no idea what enchanté  meant. 

Anyway, the six of us, including my future sister and father in law, spent the night dancing and drinking - somehow mentioned we were staying in the same hotel and somehow got split up towards the end of the night. I ended up alone with my future husband who kept insisting a couldn't make it back to the hotel on my own and that I needed him to assist me and I very firmly said ' DON'T tell me what to do!' - a feisty 23 year old who was certainly far to independent to be told. He still reminds me of that now, says it was a sign of things to come. The next morning I woke up and I couldn't remember his name, for the life of me, nor could my friend and I was too embarrassed to bump into him without knowing his name, so I planned to avoid him for the rest of the trip. I walked down to the pool and to my horror, my new friend was already there with a sunbed saved for me right next to him! So I spent the whole day waiting for someone to say his name before I could relax. Stressful! 

We spent a lot of time together on that holiday and were sad to leave each other - we planned to meet up when we returned; I was living with my grandad in Mile End, East London and he lived near Southend but worked all week in Bristol. It was going to be complicated and would require effort - a lot of people put it down as a holiday romance and said it wouldn't last. But here we are eight years, one mortgage, two children, one wedding and three major operations later - we sure showed them! 

We've travelled the world together, promised vows to each other, raised children together and grown up together. 

When I became ill, my husband very much became my carer - the roles and dynamics completely changed and our relationship became very much patient and carer overnight; typically just as we were becoming newlyweds and certainly whilst we were on our honeymoon. 

From the first surgery, he has had to learn how to care for an open wound, how to pack it, how to check stitches, how to look out for an infection, time medication and painkillers and ensure there is enough going forward  - without any medical training.

Not once has he complained and although there have been moments where it has been difficult and tense, we are a team, best friends and know when the other needs space or needs to talk. It's been a difficult journey, not just for me - the one dealing with the pain but also for the one standing next to me and watching it all; what I'm being put through.

Currently he is the one in charge of my medication, making sure I take the correct one at the correct time - around 4 hours a day,  deals with the back up medication and communicates with my surgeon's secretary. He's driven me to and from every appointment In London and has waited around for how ever long I need him - even picking up my favorite lunches for me to find when I get out of my appointments. He's picked up the lions share of the childcare, housework and has given up his turn of a lie in so that I can rest,  I really wouldn't want anyone else by my side and I know we are incredibly lucky to have eachother. 

Neither of us could have predicted how things would turn out in general eight years ago - with two beautiful boys - but we certainly couldn't have predicted what would happen with my health - even only two years ago. We've managed to stay strong throughout and we even managed to laugh about it sometimes - which is something I'd never thought I would be able to do when this first began last year. 

Of course there are times when things aren't completely perfect;  and if my darling husband does ever complain I just remind him that it was HE that asked ME to spend the rest of my life with HIM .....  I only just said yes. :)