Sick

“Mom, I threw up”. Aside from “it’s cancer”, these may be the worst words for anyone to hear.

Q threw up. Twice. Everywhere. Requiring a full bed change and a shower.

When Matt was alive, he would kick into super dad mode and handle every 2am throw up clean up. This is the same man that couldn’t look at certain foods because they would make him gag, but he could handle his child vomiting like a boss.

I, on the other hand, would gag and do my best not to let her see my eyes watering because I was so grossed out.

Cancer made me better. When you change an ileostomy bag for almost a year, you adjust. When you hold “the bucket” for your dying husband, you adjust. Things I never thought I was capable of, I did.

In sickness and in health, til death do us part. This means nothing to most people who repeat those same vows, but they meant everything to us because this was the true test of our relationship.

It’s incredibly easy to love someone when they’re well. But loving someone when you are both pushed to your absolute emotional wall is hard.

I honored and cherished Matt. For better or for worse. Sickness and health. Death took him, but I know I did my best to take care of him when he was here. It got messy. It got ugly. It got real.

I tell people to look into the eyes of the person they’re with. If you wouldn’t rush to their side with “the bucket”, if you wouldn’t rub their back while they were heaving into aforementioned bucket, if you wouldn’t take care of their personal needs post surgery, or if you wouldn’t change a bag of poop on their stomach for almost a year- re-evaluate. That’s real life.

It’s easy to love someone when they’re young and healthy. But young and sick and dying is something you can’t prepare yourself for.

Q is asleep on the couch and I’m holding down the recliner. It’s almost like old times with Matt and cancer. Caretaker isn’t a job I every thought I would be particularly good at but this bleeding heart makes it easier. I genuinely want people to be ok.

Pray for my little one. She goes hard, but when she’s down- she’s down.

One thought on “Sick

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s