Peter has been a phenomenal caregiver to me, emotionally and physically. He held my hand through the worst of the incision cleanings in the hospital, then cleaned my wounds daily himself when we got home, never flinching or faltering. He read to me to keep me company, and was always there with care and concern whenever it looked like I might need anything. At the beginning of my recovery at home, when I would get up in the middle of the night for one of my many bathroom breaks, he would say (basically in his sleep) “You’re doing great, baby.” How often do any of us get such sincere encouragement just for getting out of bed?
I had a very small insight into what it must have felt like for him, being worried about him getting his clothes on while I was still in the shower or worrying that he was pushing himself too much trying to pick something up off of the floor. I also understood how good it felt to be able to do something for him, even something as simple as get the bagels from the bottom drawer for him.
Luckily, as I said, he is feeling better, and we’ll just have to hope he continues to get better in the very near future. We bought a magical heating pad (it’s made of clay!), which appeared to really work wonders for him, so hopefully it continues to work and Peter isn’t in pain anymore.