So apparently National Family Caregivers Month is a thing and it’s happening now!

I need to salute my personal caregiver in this entry. I try to show my gratitude frequently, but I feel like it’s never sufficient enough.

We were engaged to be married for about a year before we got the phone call telling me that the western blot came back negative for Lyme disease. Once Lyme was ruled out, I just knew. We were sitting in the car before a fireworks display, just over a year before we were set to be wed, and I offered him an out.

He didn’t take the out then, nor any of the other times I offered it in the following months. We celebrated our first anniversary as husband and wife recently and I could not feel more safe and loved.

My husband, Rusty, has become so in tune with my patterns, symptoms, and needs, that he many times notices changes before I do. He’s administered my medication for me when I was too afraid to do it myself, he’s wiped away oceans of tears, he’s picked up my slack with chores when he recognizes my fatigue, he massages my injection sites to help distribute the medication, he reminds me to go to bed at a reasonable hour, which body part is next in the injection rotation, and to listen to my body. He has hoarded, stolen, and forged spoons so that I don’t have to.

Every time we hold each other, I wonder if it will be the last. Will he tire of this life? I’m so fortunate that my MS is manageable–it could be so much worse and I have much to to be thankful for–but neither of us know what the future may throw at us.

I know he gets tired, overwhelmed, and stressed, but he never complains. I didn’t choose to share my life with Multiple Sclerosis, but Rusty did. He chose me and he chooses me every morning when he wakes up next to me, groggily complaining about the stiffness in my limbs. He chooses me when I’m too exhausted to finish a load of laundry. He chooses me when I laugh or cry for no reason at all.

He chooses me.

Happy National Family Caregivers Month, babe. Happy every day.