When Gage was first in the hospital, I would not leave the hospital; seriously you could not get me to leave. I was afraid of what could happen if I was gone, and not able to be there with him. I didn’t trust anybody for me not to be there, not the family, not the nurses and sadly enough not even the Hubs. But gradually after about a month I started to go out with the Hubs once Gage was asleep we would tell the nurses we were going to Wendy’s when really we would head out to this little dive bar in the parking lot next door to the hospital. We’d sit silently not talking to one another, he drinking the house special beer and me a bloody Mary. Lost in our thoughts and emotions.
As a married couple the Hubs and I needed those nights at the bar, just to sit and be alone outside of the hospital, where nobody knew who we were and what Gage was going through. I mean we slept, ate, showered, lived at the hospital for like three months last year; and when we slept it was in separate cots. Not very romantic or conducive for a successful relationship, I am going to be completely honest with you people, because if I can’t be honest with 10,000 of my closest friends, then what am I doing here?
I wasn’t sure if my marriage would survive Gages treatment. I blamed the Hubs for not being with me when Gage was diagnosed, because it was a Monday afternoon he shouldn’t be at work. He should have been shopping at IKEA with me, then at the doctor’s office getting the most devastating of my life. Instead he was making a living for his family to live on, how dare he! I resented the fact that he went to work for those first few weeks, even when he wanted to be with us, and I demanded he go work. Gage didn’t need both of us at the hospital, going crazy with anxiety and fear; go work. I didn’t see that he was slowly killing himself because he was staying at the hospital, not sleeping and then getting up at 5am to work and not get back to our room until 9pm that night. All I saw was he got to leave, he had a “normal” life outside of the hospital; and I resented him for it. I pushed him to leave, and yet I resented it!
We got into mad, crazy yelling fight in the hospital. When I say yelling, I mean whispering loudly so the nurses can’t hear us, and quickly shutting up as soon as a nurse walked in to give Gage medication and change his diaper. Oiy- those poor nurses, the awkwardness of it all, I get so embarrassed just thinking about. None of those nurses get paid well enough to have been subjected to some of the looks we shot at each other those three months in the hospital. Those rooms echo, too! So I am sure they heard every word we said. No matter how quiet we tried to be. I said the most hateful things to him, while we were in the hospital. Things I wish I could take back, and never have said. Things I don’t think I have ever apologized for, things to this day I wont bring up to the Hubs because I am so ashamed of myself.
This was the man I married, the same guy I promised to love and honor, in sickness and health, good times and bad yada yada yada. And the first real hardship in our married life together and I freak the ‘eff out, on the one person who was giving me the most strength from anybody. Who for the last seven years has let me get my way in every argument, never told me no I couldn’t do something or buy an absolutely unnecessary item, I sure as hell didn’t need. He has always been there for me, during the good, the bad and the ugly loving me and supporting me; and I couldn’t do the same for him.
The bottom line is, this has been the hardest six months of my life as a mother and more importantly as a wife. But I love my Husband and if Gage can fight cancer and survive then we can fight to make our marriage work. I think coming to that realization has been what has saved us. Six months later our marriage is still on shaky ground, but we are slowly building our family back up, this time stronger than ever. I don’t know a lot, but the one thing I do know is I love him more and more each day.