From the hospital chair

I've been trying to muster the energy to type a blog for you all.  The hospital isn't exactly a space that cultivates inspired writing, but it's certainly one that is stretching and teaching me beyond my expectations.  I learn more in hospital visits, than I do in months at home some times. 

More about how much resilience Steve has exactly, about the disease, the body, about caring for Steve, and myself.  I gain a much deeper appreciation for my health and abilities each visit, and am reminded of just how very supportive our tribe is. 

I am shown my ability to feel others pains/joys isn't just limited to my people, I'm affected by every code I hear in our time here and find myself sending them constant love along with Steve.  Stress teaches me that unless I learn to include some love for myself in the mix, that it will destroy me. 

I find myself seeing things that may have bothered me prior to coming into the hospital with fresh perspective, and find that my view of the world changes with every visit.  That political facebook drama I got involved in, suddenly doesn't seem important anymore.  Nothing seems to be more important than being in this moment, and getting Steve healed. 

Mostly, I find myself feeling all the emotions in our short time here.  This one will be right around two visits before going home, and I've cried tears of sadness, frustration, and joy in this time.  The hospital truly helped me learn to feel, and really sit in the moments, even if it's uncomfortable.  Because of that, the joy seems so much more full and I feel my heart grow each time.

My patience is tested because of sleep deprivation. as well as things with Steve being out of my control; and I feel I reach a new level of patient sainthood each stay.  As well as finding myself itching to get deep into creativity. Feeling fueled, inspired, open, appreciative, and hopeful. 

It takes us getting back to stable before I can truly sit and process all that happened, and this visit in short was infection fixes, and wound care focused.  We've made huge strides in our two weeks, and it reminds me of what a blessing a good medical team is.  It takes a tribe to live this life, and ours is incredibly supportive; and their willingness to work through each layer of complication is astounding to me. 

While, I still have days of wishing Steve and I could go back to our lives before ALS started adding fires, I'm grateful for the lessons and growth this has all brought us.  Celebrating our 5 year anniversary here this trip, I found myself mostly overwhelmed with how fortunate I am to have Steve still here.  ALS has been relentless in it's pursuit to take Steve down, and he continues to somehow come through the other side with a grace and strength that is other worldly. 

Just, thank you.  Thank you God, universe, you reading this, our medical staff, our supportive community, our families; Steve.  I'm so thankful to sit here today feeling hopeful and happy about where we stand today, and that alone overcomes any exhaustion that I may have from this battle.