Yesterday I had a very icky not fun whatsoever test for my colitis. I had to prepare for it the day before by taking awful medication and not eating anything. I also have a cold that is making me miserable on top of being miserable. In short I was a whiny bitchy mess of ooze.
I was also freaking out because this test can also tell us if I have colon cancer. I have had Ulcerative Colitis since I was 13 which increases my chances of getting colon cancer. Fun times people. So The Man spent a good portion of his day on Wednesday reassuring me that he would never ever leave me even if I have cancer and that he loves me despite me being a whiny bitchy mess of ooze.
He took the day off on Thursday to take me to my test since I needed the emotional support and a ride home from the test. They put you out for the test and then you can't drive or make serious decisions for the rest of the day.
The Man was allowed in the recovery room following the test and I was still out of it when he saw me. My hand was laying on top of my hip and when I felt him touch my hand I grabbed it, while still out, in a death grip. When I came to I sat up and announced that I wanted The Man and I tried to get out of bed. He pushed me back into bed and told me that he was there.
Of course he was there.
He is always there.
He will always be there.
I am one lucky Duchess.