How Sweet It Is to be Loved...

Life is sweet!  Like I've said before, I thank God every day for Bob.  He has come into my life at the very right time and given me more happiness in the last 8 months that I could ever imagine.  I can't imagine my life without him. Someone asked me whether I still wanted to be with him now, if I might want to change my mind because after all he's different, he's changed, he's dealing with handicaps and after all I am sacrificing so much for him.  I remember thinking what is this person talking about.  I could not consider such a notion.  I've already made the commitment; I love this man, for better or worse, etc.  In my heart, the vows are already made.  I know if the situation was reversed and I was sick, he would do the same.  No doubt in my mind.  Good grief, would Lois dump Superman just because he was a little low on kryptonite?  Nah!

Bob is still Bob.  He is still Superman to me.  He might be slow to come up with a word, not remember what he had for breakfast or what I said to him just ten minutes before, but he still knows the important SUPER stuff.  He knows his family.  He knows Us.  He knows I'm here for him.  He knows I love him and that he loves me. 

Yesterday, Bob and I spent the day going to the VA to see two therapists, and then to his doctor at the VA Decatur Clinic.  It was a long day.  The doctor was very encouraging about the fact that Bob's tests from the hospital--Sonogram of the carotid artery area, and an echo cardiogram--showed no signs of existing clots or plaque.  Now that doesn't mean that he won't have another stroke, but there were no obvious signs of something ready to blow (so to speak).  He was still told again not to smoke, to eat healthy and to exercise.  All the things we are all supposed to do.

While we were at the doctor's office we saw a gentlemen in a wheelchair who obviously had a stroke.  He was alone and having a hard time wheeling himself around but he managed.  I thought how close Bob came. But, he's not paralyzed.  He can speak clearly and can think for himself.  He can reason, react, and show emotion.  He can walk, he can breath and say sweet things to me.  All the positives.  What Bob & I are going through is nothing--nothing compared to what that poor man, who was all by himself, was struggling with as he tried to get through the doors of the Decatur Clinic.    


This week, I've been doing "wedding" things, making more lists, contacting people, making rehearsal dinner arrangements, etc.  Bob is consulted on everything.  We have assigned my granddaughters jobs to do.  My oldest, Olivia (almost 13) is going to take pictures of everything and everybody.  My other granddaughter, Ava (10), is in charge of the guest book.  Bob & I agreed the girls were perfect for their new wedding positions.  Me, I haven't got a dress yet (I know, I know...time is getting short).  I told Bob that I will probably go down the aisle in my nightgown--the pink flannel one with the hole under the arm.  He thinks I'm crazy.  I thought that it's probably OK if I wear that because he can't see me clearly anyway.  But it would just upset my daughter A LOT.  But I can't leave my sweet Superman alone yet to go shopping.  I'm working on getting him a new phone with really big numbers and display screen.  By the way, wouldn't one think that AT&T would have a cell phone for visually impaired people?  I think I'll write a letter.  I digress...when I get him this phone, he can dial me or 911 and I will feel like I can start leaving him little by little.  He wants some independence, and I want to give him some.  Then I can shop.  In the meantime, I rely on family volunteers to Bob-sit for me in small increments.  Don't worry, I'll at least try to sew up the hole.

So as this small family wedding draws nearer, and things get checked off the lists, Superman & I take each day as it comes.  I find small sweet positives and try not to be impatient over little setbacks or things that he might have remembered yesterday and not today.  Being Lois Lane is a learning process but I'm just in the elementary stages.  And since kryptonite is sometimes hard to find, we just keep digging.  There are some things we can't do while we are waiting for recovery--we can't make things happen when we want them to, we can't lose hope, we can't worry about tomorrow, and we can't dwell on negatives.  What we CAN do as we work toward recovery is thank God for His love and all that He has given us--our health, our family and friends, each other and our love. 

From the home of Hope & Courage,
Jody