I’m lucky. This statement came to me in that mixture of dream/slowly waking up phase. I was aware enough to realize I wasn’t asleep but I didn’t want to open my eyes just yet. Instead, I had these memories of Neal tickle my awakening conscious. I thought about how when he really laughs, a deep gut giggle it can bring everyone around him joy. And I thought about how we can be in any type of crowd and he has this knack for mixing in seamlessly as if he were so close he was family. 17 years of his care free behavior being able to bring you to a light heart in a heavy situation, and his loyalty and support through all of my hard times came back to me and I thought, “There is no other man that could understand me.” I reached over to touch his back and wanted to open my eyes and tell him that I was lucky to have him. I didn’t. I didn’t only because I knew that he would take it as me overreacting to everything that has been happening to him physically in this past month.
Neal had a follow up appointment today with his Neuro after going through the round of steroids (which he officially finished Saturday!). I wanted to attend with him because I want to make sure he’s not keeping anything from me. 🙂 However, Neal didn’t want me to come and I didn’t push it. Not now anyway. There will be a day when I have to (hopefully many, many years from now) and I figured I’ll save up for that battle then. I did leave him an extensive voice message telling him what I wanted to know from the doctor and I wanted answers to know he asked! Such as, ‘Because you’ve had 3 attacks in 18 months does this put you in a progressive form of the disease?’ Now that is not a question he would ask on his own because he doesn’t want to hear the answer if it is not good.
His appointment was at 3pm…I waited patiently to hear back from him and by 4:10 I finally got a call. “Well, if you don’t mind, go pack a small bag for me. The doctor wants me to go into the hospital for a few days to get stronger steroids. He wasn’t happy with what the treatment has done so far.” Instantly my mind went to the fact that he’s obviously in the progressive phase and ‘here we go’…with more frequent trips to the hospital, wondering what aspect of him would be lost? But I was a pillar of strength. I would not allow him to hear me tear up on the phone. I asked a few more questions and made sure I knew which hospital he was staying, in my mind reorganizing everything and finding a place for the kids, dreading the phone call to his mother, when he finally said, “Ha! I’m just kidding!”
WHAT?!
As he’s giggling in the phone I’m thinking, “Me lucky? No, this man is lucky all right…lucky he’s not in front of me!” I wanted to reach through the phone and give him a reason to head to the hospital! “That’s not funny,” I said.
“Ah, come on, yeah it is. Actually, the doctor was very pleased with my progress, etc etc etc.”
GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR
That’s Neal for you. Just wait. He’ll outlive me. He’ll outlive us ALL because at least he can find joy in all things.
🙂
Blessings
Shannon