My Turn to Vent

Flashback: It is January 31, 1971, and my husband John and I are promising to stay together for richer or poorer, better or worse, in sickness and in health, until death do us part.

Flashforward:

It is October 7, 2013, and once again, after I mention to someone that I have Parkinson's disease, the person proceeds to tell me how her life has been made very hard because her husband has Parkinson's disease also.  There are many variations on this theme.  There is, "My poor sister, her husband has Parkinson's disease too."  There is, "my spouse had a stroke, but like you, he is uncomfortable driving and I have to drive him around and it's making me exhausted." There is, "I would have liked to take a big trip to Europe, but, like you, my spouse isn't comfortable traveling, so I can't go."

People, are you listening to yourselves? Somewhere in your comments is an implication that I have somehow, single handedly, set out to destroy my husband's life.  Or perhaps just that they have tremendous sympathy for my husband, who, by the way, is feeling well at 64 and still practicing law and enjoying it.  Meanwhile,  I had to give up my practice in my 50's.  In fact, while he is out running from hearing to hearing, getting new clients, and going to meetings, I am usually sitting at home nursing my aches and pains.  But, oh well, that sure is tough on him.   Or maybe I'm just selfish because I am unwilling to risk another infection by getting exhausted traveling abroad.  My poor husband, with whom I have made two trips to Israel, rode on camels to Jordan, several trips to London, and literally countless trips to Paris, will have to restrict himself now to seeing our beautiful contiguous 48 states for a while.  Poor fellow.

I work very hard at being cheerful, and when I can't do it on purpose, I am usually at least inadvertently optimistic.  When I occasionally complain to John that friends don't ever ask me how I am doing (other than the usual perfunctory "how are you", or if we are visiting my daughter in the south "how y'all doin' today"), he responds that they do care, because they ask HIM how I am doing.  Have I lost my capacity to articulate my feelings?  I don't think so!  So, I guess they are asking out of sympathy to him, because if I am not doing well, that is somehow hard on him.

People, I am still here, and my husband is alive and well, and having some of the best years of his life, thank you very much.  I may need to nap every day, but that doesn't stop him from being out of the house 12 hours a day almost every weekday.  I may get tired traveling, but we always stay in a suite, so he can have a room to check his e-mail and keep up with the office when I nap.  I may not feel like cooking, but that doesn't mean he is tied down to the kitchen -- there are lots of places for takeout suppers on his way home from work.

Maybe I am being an inadvertent optimist after all.  I am optimistic that my husband and I are still having a great life together, and, God willing, we will be for a while to come.  After all, when I tell him that someone just complained to me that they are having a hard time because of their spouse's Parkinson's Disease, he always says, "Well, just be glad I'm not that person." And he isn't!