Wednesday, 21 March 2012
My right hand man
I know I don't take him for granted at the best of times. He is a terrific, understanding support. He encourages me in all that I do and is always there to do the little things for me.
It becomes easy to stop noticing the little things a caring family member or dear friend does for you.
I am fully aware of how many blogs, letters and articles there are out there that will rant at the "normals". I am quite capable of declaring that no one understands us unless they are like us. It is very easy to be swept along on the crest of a wave. Pouring venom over the fact that Fibro is an invisible crippling illness. Ranting at a world that constantly misunderstand and makes such comments as "you don't look ill".
Well, in the last couple of days I have come to realise that those nearest and dearest do know. They do understand, and they can become just as frustrated as ourselves with the silly attitude of others. The total prejudice against us from "official" platforms. It is these unsung heroes that support us when we have to battle to receive any sort of help from government bodies. It is also them who will hold your hand when you decide the pain is just not worth the fight.
My DD knows that I need to get on and apply for DLA and income support. There is no way I can go out to work at the moment. He also knows that I will do it in time and he will help with the forms and keep my mind "on the job in hand" when fibro fog renders me helpless. It is DD who also understands that now is not the time to take on the fight.
It is also the little things that help me through every day. He will bring me a cup of tea to take my pills with every morning. He knows I can't walk first thing and need to "warm up". He always carries my cup to where I need it to be. From the very first he knew I would spill half the cup due to shaking. Granted he does occasionally poke fun at the shakes. He also knows when to make make light of it and make me laugh and when to wrap his arms around me to stop me shaking my own teeth loose.
He can tell when I am struggling with fatigue and he will simply put me to bed. He never complains and he never expects too much.
It is himself who will look at the sun shining and know how it will lighten my heart to be outside. He will then coax and encourage. Say all the right things as I feel frumpy and pathetic hobbling along with a set of crutches. Tell me how pretty he thinks I am. He will remind me of days when we had walked for miles and remind me that soon we will again. Telling me over and over, that this is a flare up and we will work on stopping it taking a hold.
He is forever in support of me. He will become angry on my behalf at those near to me who make light of my pain. He will also remind me how pointless anger is and to just let it go. There are those who have made their views quietly clear. Assuming I don't do any chores and leave it all to him. He is the first to point out that he may well keep the cubs company in the morning but they are quite able to pour their own cereal. He will also tell anyone who criticises that I do my fair share and I cook for him daily. It is the one thing I can do for him! He loves my home cooking and it is the least I can do to show him I am grateful. Of course some days cooking is impossible. He never complains about the occasional pizza or fish and chips.
I know I can cope while he is away. However, he makes it possible for me to live while he is by my side. I don't want to just cope I want to live.
I do miss him because I love him. However, I would also like to take the time to remind us all that the loved ones who help us do need to cherished. They are not our carers. They care for us. They should never be taken for granted.
Not every "normal" misunderstands.
Fibro touches the lives of those who care for us too. Let us not forget that!