The nurse was here today to follow up on all that has been going on with me since I was diagnosed with psoriatic arthritis.
She asked me how I was feeling. How I was getting on with the meds. Had I met the podiatrist? The Physiotherapist? The occupational therapist?
She asked more detailed Qs about the meds and how they were making me feel. Was I sleeping better? And so on.
And then she asked me about my home life. Who lived in the house with me and what was his reaction to my diagnosis? Was he supportive of me?
I told her that he does the hoovering now because I just can't move the monster we call our hoover.
He carries the dirty laundry basket downstairs for me on Monday and Thursday mornings - and carries the clean laundry back up again on Monday and Thursday afternoons too.
He puts the wheelies all the way down the drive on a Friday morning instead of just through the gate as he used to leaving me to pull them down the rest of the way to the kerb.
And so on and so on!
He has always been supportive. Even when we didn't know what the heck was wrong with me, he'd do little things to help me.
So, let me tell the whole wide world what I will tell him when he gets home from work. I love you, Douglas. I don't know what I'd do without you. Thank you for being you!