A funny thing happens when you have an illness like lupus. It keeps life, well, interesting. It is interesting for the person who has the illness, it it is equally interesting for anyone else in your life. Beloved always wanted to be a doctor, of a type. He got a PhD and had a lovely life doing what he wanted, traveling as he wished.
Then he met me. Suddenly his life became, well, complicated. Travelling when he wanted was out of the question because sometimes lupus doesn’t let you just travel. So, if he wanted me to join him, it would become a bit more of a scheduling and wait and see deal.
He also ended up learning a lot of stuff from a medical standpoint. He jokes that he has become an unofficial doctor with all he’s learned medically. Heck, he has come to accessorize the house around an IV pole and such. He’s learned that some of my medication must be kept cool. He’s gotten ideal at reorganizing the refrigerator, dealing with needles and such.
He’s adapted to the me who can do things one moment and the next be left unable to do half of what I could before. He’s adjusted to the whole ‘the sun is trying to kill me’ approach I have to sunlight. He’s had to adjust to the girl he knew suddenly not looking like the girl he knew. He’s adapted to my ups and downs with doing things, for pain, and all the rest.
So if he wanted interesting, he got that in spades with me!