#HAWMC: Day 6, “Your Hero”

CHALLENGE: Your Hero.
Everyone has someone they look up to – a person they go to for advice, an individual you admire or idolize. It could be your partner, a family member, coworker, or someone famous. Who are they and what makes them awesome in your eyes? #HAWMC

If you saw yesterday’s post, I spoiled it for you. Today I want to talk about my husband. This man is truly amazing. He has stood by my side during the darkest hours of my disease. He’s stood with me while I puked and pooped my guts out… a guy like this is a keeper, ya’ll.

From day one of my diagnosis, I knew David was the one. It was February of 2011. I’d been having digestive issues and was pooping blood 20+ times a day. I didn’t tell David until one day I was lying on my bed with a pain in my abdomen like no other. I called him (he lived three hours away at the time) and told him I thought there was something seriously wrong with me. He asked me what exactly was wrong and that’s when I asked him if he’d ever pooped blood.

Instead of being grossed out or freaking out on me, he told me that I needed to go to the doctor. So… reluctantly, I made an appointment and proceeded to go through the series of tests. X-Rays, blood tests, stool samples, emergency colonoscopy… I was at my wit’s end. I wondered how anyone could love me with all I had going on. Dave and I had only been dating a year and he could drop me and pick up someone healthier any moment.

At the end of that week, Valentine’s Day weekend, it was a Friday and I had to get some bloodwork done in my GP’s office. They drew my blood and I waited what seemed like hours. I felt like I was going to pass out any moment. My doctor came in to inform me that my blood count dropped 6 points in 5 days’ time.

She said, “I’m going to schedule you for a blood transfusion in the morning. You could really use two units of blood, but I’m only going to schedule one.”

I felt like I was dreaming. You’ve gotta be kidding, right doc? She wasn’t. I walked out to my car, numb, and called Dave. I screamed, cried, cursed and told him that I didn’t want to do this anymore. He remained calm as I had a meltdown. “I’ll be there when I get off work.” He said.

When he got there, he knew it was bad. I was pale, skinny and dehydrated. He couldn’t believe it. He went with me the next morning to the infusion center. If this didn’t tell me he loved me, I knew the following week when he drove three hours in the middle of the night to sit with me and make sure I didn’t need to go to the ER.

We married 8 months after my diagnosis.

He has always been supportive in every option of treatment I’ve tried. Prednisone? While he agrees it needs to die, he knows that it has saved my life on numerous occasions. Gluten-free? Heck! He’s all for trying anything that will get me off medication and if it helped other people it could help me! Spend hundreds on an ALCAT test to find out my intolerances? Yep. This is where desperation on both our parts began to set in. After various remedies, diets and medications, I had surgery… and this man was with me through it all.

He went to my appointments with me, held me when I cried, encouraged me when I felt I couldn’t go on. David has been my rock.

He is supporting me in my Take Steps walk. He is supporting me in every aspect of my blogging adventure–heck! He’s even donating half of the proceeds he makes off of his book to the Crohn’s & Colitis Foundation of America!

I truly don’t think I would have made it this far suffering from my disease without him.