Yesterday I was in the same room as my husband for the second time in three months. In a happy coincidence that I hadn’t, to be perfectly honest, actually considered when I asked for another exception to the hospital’s current no-visitors policy and was given permission for him to come, it was both my husband’s birthday and Father’s Day this weekend. In other words, the visit was meant to be (cringe).
But really: although I, as someone who’s dealt with a lot of major health issues, refuse to believe that “things happen for a reason” since that would imply that there’s more than randomness and bad luck responsible for the various stuff that plagues me—a thought I can’t handle—it was pretty serendipitous that this aligned so perfectly. Honouring my husband’s day of birth not over Skype? Yes, please.
But how does one properly celebrate in such a weird setting? My husband is a supportive partner to the point of deserving his own fan club (hmm … I’m definitely tucking that idea away for future use), and I wanted to make sure that he knew how much I care. I thus crafted two large birthday posters—one of which a nurse taped to the unit’s front door—and several small ones. I was considering making party hats, but I decided that the over-the-top “BIRTHDAYS ARE GREAT” messaging would suffice. Plus I had a seizure and needed to rest.
On a non-birthday-related note, I’m very, very pleased to report that this week’s visit went super well. The last one had some unexpected PIP-related hiccups, but we did a better job of preparing this time, and our planning paid off. (Birth-) Yay!
De Morbo Sacro: Life and/with Epilepsy 