To the Man Who Wasn’t Supposed to Be My Carer

To the man who wasn’t suppose to be my carer. You care for a living. You look after people, you bring them happiness and communication in a life that may seem very dark and quiet.

My love, it was never my intention that you would then come home and continue your work.

I never intended for you to be my carer. The one that takes me to hospital, that handles my appointments, that calls doctors and keeps up with my prescriptions and medicine. The one that rubs my back and brings me hot water bottles and comfort food.

I never intended for you to save my life, and protect it on so many levels. I see the fear in your eyes when you leave the house while I’m in a bad way. The way you hold me tighter when I tell you the voices have been harsher than usual. The way you hold your breath a little when I tell you I feel like a seizure is coming.

You are one of-a-kind, my darling. You deal with every obstacle life has thrown at you, including my health. And you still stare into my eyes and tell me you love me every single day. You still hold my hand while I have cannulas placed at hospital. You still wipe my tears when my seizures become overwhelming and scary. You still make plans for our future life even though you know as well as I do we can’t progress much further until I make a recovery.

You weren’t suppose to be my carer. Yet here you are, by my side, making me smile and making me laugh when all seems dark.

I haven’t got much to give, I haven’t got a lot of money to support you with, I demand a lot from you. But the one thing I can give you is priceless. It’s something no one else can have, nor can it be bought with any amount of money.

I give you my heart. My trust. My word. My honesty. My life.

I give you myself. The half that needed you to make me whole.

This chronic pain journey has been a rough one. But if it’s given me anything, it’s you. Without my pain I wouldn’t have met you.

So thank you, chronic pain, for allowing me to meet the man I needed to make all of this agony worth it.

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