Month: May 2018

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Fracture

Posted on by Susannah Warner

A bone is strong, but it can break. It can break cleanly or it can splinter. It can buckle  and it can be twisted. Car accidents, falls, sport injuries; many things can cause a bone to break. The effect is the same, pain so severe that it makes you want to throw up. You don’t want to look at, but you do. The site of it makes you feel worse, but confirms that there is a reason for your pain, and solidifies in your mind that you can’t fix this on your own, and that you must go to a hospital, to have a doctor fix it. At that time, whatever personal beliefs you may have for, or against Western medicine are thrown out the window. It’s unlikely that anyone could repair a serious break themselves, except maybe for a little finger fracture. Nothing can be done about that anyway, certainly nothing a little “buddy taping” with duct tape wont fix (yeah, I live in Maine, that’s how we fix things!). Most people don’t care about lack of insurance, or high co-pays if a bone is jutting out of their skin, they’ll figure that out later, and the vast majority will not delay, but go immediately to have it repaired, preferably by a specialist. In most cases, a cast is applied, mainly for protection while it heals on its own, and it will, as strange and wonderful as that is. Sometimes, the break is not clean, and surgery is required. The surgeon applies pins and screws, and the healing process is longer and more painful, but it does heal eventually. But you know what the most amazing thing about all this is? Not the fracture itself, not that you knew where to go to fix it, not that a specialist could assist in the healing process, and not that the bone essentially heals itself. The most amazing thing is that once healed, it is no more or less likely to break again than other areas. It used to be believed that the area was then stronger, but that isn’t true. It is as if it never happened. The initial pain, followed by the long crippling recovery period are eventually all but forgotten, and the whole ordeal is now an anecdote, a party story or a cautionary tale.

It occurred to me, after a trying time, that a marriage can be like a bone. It is a support, it is alive and it is strong. Pound for pound, bone is stronger than cement, just as the union of two people, is strong, but, it can break. Addictions, affairs, and unresolved issues can fracture a marriage. It might be a crack in a small bone, like a finger, that just needs some “buddy tape” and a little TLC to heal. Or, if you are together long enough, chances are there will be a fracture to a larger and more significant bone; an arm, or worse, maybe even to your femur, the strongest bone in the body. This is a bone that you have always depended on to support your weight. You’ve never given it much thought, it’s always there, and gives you no trouble. In fact, it’s never thought of at all. If that happens, mark my words, it will be thought of because it will hurt, you will feel nauseated, and the pain will keep you awake at night, and prevent you from walking during the day. Should you just cut off the limb then, to get rid of the pain? Wouldn’t it be better to have no leg at all then to have to look at how grotesquely deformed it is now? That would be painful, but it would be done and over with, and maybe you could just get a new leg, one that is no longer broken.

Some people do choose that option, and for some it is the right one, but some people choose the arduous, and painful process of healing their marriage. They have identified the break, now they need to know where to go to have someone help them fix it. Maybe a councilor, maybe a pastor, or maybe right to God himself. Either way, a “cast” is applied, or maybe “surgery” is required. It will be difficult, it will be costly, and there will be a long period of recovery. But just as a desperation to fix this situation occurs with a broken bone, so too is the desperation to fix a fractured marriage. It doesn’t matter how much it costs, or how long or takes, as long as each day there is some improvement. There will be set backs, but it’s the trajectory that’s important. After all, the goal is to be made whole and well again, something that is a foregone conclusion, if you are in it for the long haul. To be able to run and jump with no fears of a future break because it as strong as it was before? That is the prize, plus now you have an anecdote, a party story and a cautionary tale to tell, and you also have each other.

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The Pull of Addiction

Posted on by Susannah Warner

She calls your name, and you shiver. You try to ignore her, but without her, life seems meaningless. She whispers in your ear, and you strain to catch what she is saying. Shaking your head to stop the spread, insidious and encompassing, you can’t help but wonder how anyone can live without her. What a dull life others must lead without the pull of something so alluring and exciting.”Stay busy,” you think, “that will help.” But, on your feet or lying in your bed, curled up to stop the onslaught, she finds you; her voice urgent now. She needs you, you need her, her beckon is intoxicating. You think of your family, your friends. They hate her, they say she has taken you away from them, robbed you of your joy. “Don’t listen to them,” she purrs, “I love you, we have so much fun together. You are happy with me, how can something that makes you happy be bad? They don’t understand.” She tugs on the cable surrounding you, ensnaring you. It is a beautiful chain. Golden and glistening with diamonds, you allow yourself to be pulled. “She is so beautiful, beauty is good. She knows me, understands me, she accepts me,” you reason. On your feet now; walking, then running to her, excitement building, your heart pounding. Your loved ones watch you go to her once again, and they keep watching, hoping you will turn around and see that they are still there, right where you left them. But you become smaller and smaller until even eyes sharp and bright with love, can’t see you anymore. And you? You run to her now, the decision made, the die-cast. But she turns before you can reach her, a swirl of beauty, the ecstasy you have chased just out of reach. “Wait,” you say, “you promised that we would be together, you told me you loved me, I left everything for you.” Laughing, she darts out of your grasp, pulling you with her, you can’t keep up and you fall on your knees. She is dragging you now, you are no match for her strength. You try to stand, but she runs faster, the golden thread now a rusty chain, wrapped around your neck, choking you. Too late, you realize that your family was right. Her beauty is hideous, terrible and alive. How did you not see? Why didn’t you listen? Shame falls on you like a black blanket, stifling and paralyzing. You know that it won’t be long now, you have thrown away everything for her, and she will make you another victim. Taking one last furtive glance back, you can see your family, maybe a whole group still, or maybe only one left, standing on a hill, backlit by the setting sun, as steady and unfaltering as an oak, with roots so vast and so deep, they tremble below you now, and jolt you with the truth. You have been deceived, you were wrong, you hate yourself and you want to die, but you keep looking at that beautiful tree as you bump along ensnared by your master, Addiction. Hope gone now, regret is bitter on your tongue and you are ready to accept your fate, because this is what you deserve. But, you become aware of love and forgiveness raining down on you, a sprinkle at first, then a downpour. Clean and refreshed, with some strength returning, you struggle to your feet, causing Addiction to stop for a minute, bewildered. She’s coming back to get you, beautiful once again, whispering to you so sweetly. But, you have seen the truth, you have felt love and she is not love, she is deception. The decision made, the chains around you fall, and you trudge back up the hill, beaten and battered, but feet moving toward your shelter. She still calls you, you are still attached, but it is a thread now, and the velvet cord from your family to your heart strengthens. It has always been there, it will always be there. It is called love and it will never fail. You are still pulled, you will always be pulled, but you know that the love and devotion of others will tug at your heart with a strength that far surpasses the pull of Addiction. You are sheltered now. You are home, you are loved and forgiven, you are where you belong.

1 Corinthians 13:13 NIV

And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.

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What it feels like to be a Nurse

Posted on by Susannah Warner

#1 Most trusted profession? According to Gallup’s annual poll, nurses have ranked highest in honesty and ethical standards for 20 consecutive years. May 6th is National Nurses Day, and this is what it feels like to be a nurse….

~At any given moment at work; your feet hurt, your back or neck hurts, you are probably hungry and thirsty, and you may or may not have had a chance to go to the bathroom since you got there.

~You optimistically bring a lunch everyday but, sometimes don’t have time to eat it.

~You work 3 days a week (unless you feel guilty that everyone is working short-staffed and you pick up an extra shift) but during those three days you see only your co-workers and your bed. Everything and everyone else cease to exist.

~Returning home after a 13+ hour day, you have learned to ignore piles of dishes and laundry, and force yourself to get to bed ASAP, because in a few hours, you will do it all over again.

~Friends and family say to you, “wow, you have a lot of time off!”

~Your first day off after three shifts in a row is a day of catching up on laundry, not sleep.

~You are really good at nodding and smiling, but your nurse friends know the truth. Sometimes, you only have time to exchange glances, but just to know that someone else knows how you feel, makes you feel better.

~Your long hours make you depend on co-workers to switch shifts or come in early for you, so you can rush to your child’s basketball game or concert in your scrubs.

~Saltines and graham crackers? Yes at work. Never, ever at home.

~Someone else’s bowel movements; Cheered, charted, reported and discussed. Weird? Not to us.

~Same with urine, sputum and vomit.

~”Vitamin A” and “code brown,” nonmedical terms that all nusres know; one we love, the other, not so much.

~Walks, talks and pees in the toilet is a wonderful phrase to hear during report.

~Ditto with alert and oriented.

~Speaking of report, giving to, and getting from, the same person a few days in a row can make your whole day.

~”Admission” is a dirty word.

~So is “quiet.”

~Holidays and weekends and nights. Enough said.

~Donuts from Dr’s, chocolates from patients, and cakes for birthdays can cause a stampede in the breakroom.

`When you are off, random medical emergencies in which you must take action, seem to happen frequently around you, although you try to avoid these situations like the plague.

~Regarding the health of your children, you are one of two ways: certain that every headache is brain tumor and every stomachache is appendicitis, or shrug off every complaint with a “you’ll be fine.”

~After seeing you at work, one of your children might have exclaimed, “I wish you were this nice at home!”

~Among your coworkers, you know who is the best at different tasks like a difficult IV start or putting in an NG tube, so you trade tasks or beg them to come along for “moral support.”

~You have uttered the phrase, “I absolutely HAVE to get out on time today because I have to do X, Y and Z.” It doesn’t happen.

~After a ridiculously busy shift, when your spouse says, “how was your day?”, you say “fine” because to even begin to tell a non-medical person everything you did and saw seems exhausting.

~When you do feel like talking, usually when eating, your spouse abruptly ends the conversation with a hand up and a “please!”, when the word diarrhea makes its appearance.

~No subject is off-limits with your co-workers and they know everything about you.

~Wolfing down a meal with another nurse is the perfect time to discuss bodily functions, or lack thereof.

~You think maybe you have seen it all, until the next strange things comes along.

~You learn to accept anything; odd requests from patients, OCD behavior from other nurses, mood swings of physicians, and try to accommodate them all, as they also accept your quirks.

~You live in fear that you will accidentally cause a HIPPA violation.

~Because of HIPPA, your spouse has probably said to you, “xxxx said they saw you at work. Why didn’t you tell me?!?”

 

As a nurse, you have been punched, kicked, sworn and spit at. You have also held hands, cried with, hugged and even kissed strangers. You have been called a bi*%# and an angel in the same day. You have truly loved, and disliked certain patients but have treated both the same way. You have loved and hated your job. You have cried and laughed. You have seen births and deaths. You have seen tragedy and triumph. You have seen people at their worst and their best. You have been at your worst and at your best. Your co-workers are like siblings. You are proud to be a nurse.

Happy Nurses Day.

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The Heartache of Bipolar (take 2)

Posted on by Susannah Warner

I wrote this piece about bipolar disorder last year, after watching an episode of Shameless on Netflix. I could identify so strongly with the family, and also with the character, that I had to write about it. My husband is bipolar. I know that there are some people who prefer the term to be “has bipolar,” rather than IS, but this is who he is, the good and bad. It is not like a head cold, or the flu, and you can’t shake it off like a stifling hot coat, or wrap yourself in it when you are chilly. It is who he is, and it is who we are. Courage and tenacity are the requirements to survive, but love, acceptance, and understanding are needed to thrive. Bipolar can be beautiful, and exciting when experiencing the “up” side. There is creativity, and generosity, and fun there; but also risk and danger.  I wanted to write from his point of view as well as mine. I wasn’t sure if I captured what it’s like from his side, but he assured me that I did. I want the reader to know that a person with bipolar, or any mental illness, does not choose this life, and they suffer so greatly when they can’t be who they think their loved ones want them to be. But that is not the end of the story. There is help. There is no cure, but there is relief. If you love a person with bipolar, or you are that person, know that you are brave, you are strong, and you are not alone.

 

What if you felt dead inside, although you were still breathing? What if you felt so dry that you thought that your bones could wither and die? What if your child’s laugh felt like nails on a chalk board? What if the sounds of breakfast, and of your family preparing to face the world, melted the small amount of courage that you had left? What if the sound of the birds chirping was an assault to your ears, and the sun seemed to mock the darkness of your spirit? After all, the sun is up and you should be too, both your body and your mood. Everyone else is; it has been a cold, snowy winter, and a rainy spring. But now, summer is here, people are happy, why can’t you be one of them? They come out to wash their cars, walk their dogs, and barbecue with friends. But not you. The pain in your body joins the pain in your mind, crippling you. Your bed is safe, and the world is not. The weight of responsibility sits on you like a ton of bricks, it overpowers you. You can’t breathe out there. The air is too fresh, and the light too bright. Darkness is the place to hide; where for you, wrapped in your blanket cocoon, in your darkened room, solitude is the only safe place in this world. But the price of security is shame. You wallow in your guilt, you wear it like a chain draped over your shoulders, crushing but reassuringly familiar.

 

I see you there, in bed, wrapped up, nothing sticking out but your head which faces the wall. I know that this is a “down day.” I know that you will not get up today. I know that you will not take the kids to the playground and to get ice cream, and play outside all day like you promised yesterday, because that was yesterday, an “up day.” I hear the kids downstairs, letting the refrigerator door bang open, and the bowls clunk together as they get cereal while watching Saturday morning cartoons. The sun is out, and they are ready for their day of fun. They argue about what they will do with you first. I know what will happen when I go down. “Where’s Dad?” they will say, disappointed to see boring Mom instead of fun Dad. “He’s not feeling well,” I’ll say. “Probably it will just be us today,” My voice will be light, and bright, but they will not be fooled. “OK” they will say, turning their faces back to the TV, no longer questioning why. I will turn the emotional barometer up to “extra happy” to combat the rapidly declining moods, sun or no sun. But. before I face them and spend the day making it up to them, I go to your side of the bed. You have tears in your eyes, you have the saddest face I have ever seen, at least since last time. “I’m sorry, I just can’t” you mumble. “It’s ok” I say, “you will feel better tomorrow.” You nod, even though you don’t believe that this is true. But, you trust what I say, even if it seems impossible today. You know, that I know, what you cannot know today. I will know it for you, and I will carry us through until then.

I know that you are grateful for the steadiness of my moods, neither high highs, or low lows. I know that you will wrap yourself in sadness and guilt all day, It would be cruel to say the obvious; that this is not fair, and that I never planned on being at the park all day, and that I have tons of laundry to catch up on, and would it be too much to ask to give me a freaking hour alone to read a book or take a nap for God’s sake? My only consolation is that I know that you would never choose this. You have told me more than once that at least I can get away from you when you are like this; that you can’t get away from yourself. I also know that if there was a choice between you and me having this disease, you would choose it a thousand times, so that I wouldn’t have to feel the pain of darkness. I give you a kiss, and tell you to rest even though I know a hundred days would not make your exhausted soul feel rested. But, we are a team. We are one. When you are down I am the half that is up and when the buoyancy of your mood threatens to carry us all away, I will be an anchor and bring us back to earth. I do this because I love you, and because I promised to be there in sickness and in health and because I know that joy comes in the morning. Tomorrow you will probably be “up” even though it will rain. You will roll around, and wrestle with the kids on the floor. You will play games, and make omelets, and clean the whole house. You will not feel the pain that just yesterday, made you feel like you had been “run over by a truck.” You will be fun, and exciting, and everyone will forget the darkness of this day. Just as it is impossible to remember the chill of winter while basking in summers warmth, so it is with Bipolar. The lows make the highs even sweeter. But today is not that day, today you are down, so I will be up. I put on my sneakers and my happiest face and off I go.

Thankfully, our life together is not as labile as depicted here, but it was just like this for many years, before a diagnosis and the trial of many medications. It took a long time before we found the right combination, and the side effects were sometimes harsh. In addition to medication, we have found that sleep, a healthy diet, and copious amounts of exercise, especially exercising outside in nature helps immensely. Still, there is no cure, and there are highs and lows. Suicide is an ever present danger, and approximatly 20% of bipolar sufferers do take their own lives. My husband’s dad killed himself a few years ago, so it is a very real, and present danger. We don’t take it lightly. Bipolar is something we will live with forever; riding out the lows and making the most of the highs, together.

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10 Reasons Why I Am Still Married

Posted on by Susannah Warner

Formerly known as 8 reasons.

I wrote this a year ago, and just reread it for the first time when it popped up on my timeline. I’m kind of surprised at myself for forgetting a few good reasons why we are still married. Maybe, I didn’t forget, maybe they are just things I have learned over the last year. If that’s the case, then hopefully I can add to this yearly, like a modern-day epistle. I’m going to aim for 100 reasons, although, for this year, I think I’ll be happy with getting to ten, Here are #9, and #10, which I’ll tack on the bottom..

Sometimes I’m shocked by how old we sound. Here we were, on our way to church (of course we were!), when I realized that the following types of conversations happen when you’ve been married for a long time. We had just bickered briefly about the former whereabouts of a hair salon called Xana-do, after we passed the new location. We gave up quickly as neither side was willing to concede, and because neither one of us was in a contentious enough mood to whip this innocuous subject into a full-blown argument. We moved on to discuss a woman who we used to know who worked there. “Is she still with Tony?” I asked. “Nah,” my husband replied, “they broke up years ago, actually, it was more like decades ago.” He said this seriously but I burst into laughter because it  sounded so ridiculous and so old. It made me realize that I must have picked up a few pointers along the way that I will gladly share, but as you read them, please consider the source. Although we have managed to stay married for 25 years (now 26!), we have wrangled over every banal subject under the sun, and I don’t think that it will change anytime soon.

#1 Keep the fights clean: we don’t do this at all, we are terrible, dirty fighters. We have thrown rings and insults, we fight bitterly and often, and sometimes go to bed angry, Our disagreements once prompted my then six-year old niece to say, “you two are always either fighting or kissing.” This is true. Some couples say they don’t argue at all. I don’t know if this is bad or good, You could say that they have less passion in their marriage but then again, they also would have a lot less heartache, and probably more sleep.  Never mind this advice, I’m not fit to give it.

#2 Know each others strengths and weaknesses: This took us years and years to realize. When our daughter was a baby, I thought that things should be fair. We both worked, and I felt that on our days off, he should take turns with me getting up early. We never fought more than during that bleak period of time, I really didn’t understand that he was a night owl,and that as a life long early bird, it made more sense for me to get up, at least most of the time. When our son arrived six years later, we had seven years of marriage, and parenthood under our belts and came up with a plan that worked for both of us. He would take the “night shift”, and I would do  the “morning shift.” Our son was sensitive as a baby and never slept well. After nursing him, sometimes he slept, but often he needed to be walked or rocked for hours and would wake up as soon as these activities stopped. My husband was on duty until 2 am, and when the baby woke after that, I would take over. Since I was usually in bed by 9 or 10 pm, this actually felt like a suitable arrangement at the time, but writing this now, my goodness, this sounds like a miserable existence! My point is though, we figured out a way to make it work by using our strengths to our favor rather than our weaknesses against us.

#3 Have fun together: Millennials call this “date night” and that is fine and good for them, but when we were just starting out, we had no money for date nights. I am well aware that this makes me sound old, but don’t worry, I wont launch into one of those, “when we were your age” parables. Suffice it to say that we have never really spent much money in the pursuit of merriment. Oh, we have taken family trips to amusement parks and beaches, we have gone out to eat by ourselves and to the movies and Broadway plays and museums. Sometimes though these have ended up feeling like a commandment to have fun.’Thou shall take thy family to the beach and all will have fun, for thou art an American family.’ But one sandy bottom, two sunburned shoulders and three temper tantrums later and the whole “happy family” sham topples like a house of cards. These family pursuits of happiness have not all been failures. We have had fun too, but our favorite times together are simpler arrangements. Walks, board games or cribbage, playing softball together on our church team, jeep and four-wheeler rides,  hiking, (when he makes me feel guilty that I haven’t gone with him in years), shopping ,(when I make him feel guilty), all things that we do for our “date nights.” For me, I don’t care if we are just sitting on the couch watching Survivor, as long as he keeps making me laugh during the commercials.

#4 If at all possible, sleep in separate beds!!!  OK, this is a weird thing to say, and certainly this would not work for every couple, but I’m just going to say it anyway.  Because for us,  given that we are polar opposites in many ways, especially in our sleep habits, if we had not done this about 15 years ago, we probably  would be divorced now. I’m not saying that he can’t come visit, but when its time to get down to the serious business of sleep, (and the older you get, the more you treat it seriously), he needs to pack up and go back home.

This is why this works for us: I go to bed early, he goes to bed late. I have my covers tucked, his are swirled around like a hurricane hit his bed. I make my bed as soon as I am on my feet in the morning, if he makes his at all, it is a few minutes before he climbs into at night. I have a top sheet (who doesn’t?!?), he does not. I sleep with my electric blanket on from September until June, he is like a furnace and needs only one blanket. I like to have a mattress topper, he does not, “That stupid thing is too hot and soft.” I’m sure you get the picture. Sleeping apart has actually not separated us, it has brought us closer. I guess the real lesson here is, don’t be afraid to let go of what you think a couple should look like. Create your own bubble.

#5 Remember what attracted you on him in the first place: My husband is a bad boy,  I have always gone for the bad boy. They are exciting and dangerous and everything I am not. Bad boys are fun to date but a nightmare to marry. At least he was for the first several years, still is sometimes, but although he hasn’t changed, my attitude has. For the first several years, I tried to change him, and mold him to my version of the perfect husband. This created so much drama that I wondered if we could ever get through it. But, about the time that our daughter starting having problems with a bully at school, I realized the value of having a tough customer on your team. He has dealt with every tricky situation, including somehow, the bully, and walked head on into difficult and sometimes dangerous situations to protect and to keep our family together. He keeps things interesting… I think I’ll leave it at that. This may not be your spouse. Your spouse might be the solid, boring one, as I am. Remember, what you liked, and admired about that person and try to be thankful that they are different from you. which brings me to…

#6 Embrace the differences: My husband and I are like night and day. He is bipolar and has ADHD. Because of this, he is spontaneous, and colorful, fun and a risk taker. But, he has so much going on in his brain that at times, he is overwhelmed and can become anxious. I am solid as a rock, but a little bland, and not much of a risk taker as evidenced by the fact that I have been working at the same facility since I was 16, that’s almost 30 years if you are counting! He helps me to have fun, and I help him to stay calm and grounded. He wrestled with the kids while I kept things on schedule. He hunted, fished, rode ATV’s, hiked and showed them wildlife, and I read and watched movies with them, went to every game, meet, event and most practices, sat in waiting rooms, filled out insurance forms and comforted the sick and injured. Don’t get me wrong, sometimes we did these thing together, and because the my job requires me to work every other weekend, he was pressed into service and nicely filled my shoes as Mom, albeit, a fun one. Last night, I asked him to make me a grilled cheese, because he makes the best, and when I was finished eating he asked me to make him a “big sandwich”, a giant deli style heated cheese and sliced ham stuffed affair. I could have made my own grilled cheese and he could have made his own sandwich, and twenty years ago, we probably would have, reluctant to ask a favor, lest one of us be beholden to the other and unwilling to admit that we each have skills the other does not. These days though, older and wiser, we see this as a benefit, not a competition.  I never liked wrestling on the floor with a rambunctious kid and he is not really a fan of Laura Ingalls Wilder.

#7 On the big issues it helps to agree: We may be the Bickersons about mundane things, but on the big issues we agree, To me, these are politics, religion, and money. Well, we really don’t agree on money, because he is generous to a fault, and also never in my life I have I seen someone literally lose money as he does. I’ve actually witnessed it fall to the ground, not that surprising as he does not like a wallet and instead stuffs bills in his front pocket. But, we do agree that I’m the better manager of it so usually I handle the bills and do whatever I want with it except for large ticket items. Those, we talk about. Although, it’s really not much of a discussion as the more I spend, the better he likes it. The other two issues, we agree on. He is more zealous about politics, and I am more so about religion, but we do agree and because our values mesh, we have had a solid foundation to build our marriage.

#8 Prayer (Don’t stop reading here!) This is not the part where I try to force my Christian values on you. I know that not everyone who reads this believes in the power of prayer and that’s OK. Don’t throw the baby out with the bath water, as my mother has been known to say. Actually, I hate that saying. Anyway, prior to meeting my husband, I had a few relationships, that after a time,  I felt the need to pray about. Each time, I asked that if this was not the right person for me, to end it now. Four times I did this, and three times the relationship ended in a week. To some, this might seem like a coincidence or maybe that I was just acting out what I obviously felt anyway or why would I have prayed in the first place. Whatever you believe, if you find yourself at a crossroads why not throw that prayer out there? It won’t hurt either way.

So, that’s it. I’m sure there are many reasons that we are still married that I have not mentioned.  Chief among them, might be stubbornness, convenience and maybe we actually love each other (I know we do). It’s a gamble for sure. The stakes are high but the payoff is higher, at least for us. Now, pardon me while I have my husband read this. I’m pretty sure I know just what he will say, “oh, that’s nice, I look like an irresponsible jerk and you look like the martyr”. We quite possibly will argue about it this afternoon. apparently,  that’s just the way we like it.

P.S. What he actually said after he read it was , “Yeah, that’s nice, it’s pretty good……..martyr”.

Addendum: 2018 

#9 Appreciate the little things: Whenever we go out to a Chinese restaurant, my husband always gives me his fortune cookie, not because he doesn’t like them, but because, “you like them more.” This small act of selflessness is what I think love is all about. A marriage, I think, can be made or broken by the little things. Of course, there are big things that can cause a break-up; infidelity and abuse chief among them, but in many marriages, I think it might be more about the little things that we do,or don’t do for each other that can make all the difference. Forehead kisses, foot-rubs, picking wildflowers, holding the door open for me, putting washer fluid in my car, leaving notes in my lunchbox, he does little things for me all the time, and they mean so much more to me than any grand sweeping gesture. He’s far better at this than I am, which brings me to…

#10 Keep working on it: A marriage, like our old house, needs constant attention, and upkeep to keep it in good shape. Much like an abandoned house looks unloved and forlorn, so a marriage falls apart if it’s not given TLC. It is very easy, especially when you have young children and jobs, to not give it the maintenance it deserves, but it will be alright, as long as the foundation is secure; there will be plenty of time in the future to rebuild, stronger and more beautiful than before. But, if the foundation is neglected to the point that it crumbles and breaks, it might be all but impossible to repair it. Don’t let that happen. Don’t take it for granted, and not invest even the smallest amount of kindness, thoughtfulness and appreciation to your partner. Because that’s what they are, your partner; no one gets you like they do, and no one will love your children like they do. At times, over a period of 28 years, we have let things go, but always in the nick of time, something wakes us up and makes us rebuild. We are a little older and wiser now, but still we need to invest in renovations, not for resale value. or even curb appeal, but just to continue to enjoy living in this beautiful institution of marriage.

That’s it for this year’s edition of “Marriage advice from a middle-aged woman,” Stay tuned, I’ll re-post this next year, hopefully with more reasons.