My 1/3 Anniversary

Yesterday, on 4/20 (I did that intentionally) I had my third of a year anniversary.

My marriage has been a fairytale. But not the easy Disney kind. More like the Brothers Grimm kind or the Central Europe kind, where people become disfigured or disabled in the quest for true love. What I’m saying is, you get your magical happily ever after, but magic takes manna and happiness requires danger.

Bear and I have been through a lot over the past four months. Most of it has been because of my untreated PTSD that I’m just now getting treated. I sought help throughout my life, but because I had it buried so deep within me it exploded on my wedding night.

Today I performed a literal song and dance number to express to Bear my feelings about our situation. Then I decided he just needed to hear that he was a good husband, to keep trying, as I would keep trying.

On the day of our anniversary I went into our back yard and picked two of our roses. I put them in the cup we painted together on our first valentines day. I hoped the effect was special enough to override any of the bad juju we’d been through.

When I picked the roses, I noticed how soft and velveteen they felt. I grew up in a literal rose garden. My mother’s yellow roses and my grandfather’s red heirloom roses climbed the walls of my childhood home.
Whenever I see a rose, I am reminded of childhood play, happiness, and my mother’s love.

I had quite a garden as a child, and I grew up exploring the plants and little critters that came with it. But there were always the roses climbing the walls and flower beds.

Bear isn’t giving me a rose garden, but he is giving me a pergola covered with climbing roses once the coronapocalypse is over. We’re going on a road trip to the best rose seller in the state, and I will pick out my favorites. I’lll most likely be a kid in a candy store.

Anyways, Bear, life may not be a rose garden, but it will be a rose pergola with you. Happy one third of an anniversary!

My Immunosuppressed Romance: Love In the Time of COVID-19

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With COVID-19 declared a pandemic, I became curious about it today. By curious, I mean panicked.

The reason I had been avoiding reading the news about it was to create an illusion that I’d be okay by creating ignorance. This is because I’m an immunosuppressed person, and have been so for about a year.

As an immunosuppressed person, I am among the most vulnerable to COVID-19 because of my fibromyalgia and hypothyroidism. For those who have fibromyalgia and are unaware or unsure that fibromyalgia is immunosuppressed, due to prolonged high levels of inflammation, fibromyalgia does compromise your immune system, per The Fibro Manual by Dr. Ginevra Liptan, MD.

Before COVID-19 became a pandemic, my husband frequently talked about it with me. Today I understood why – mainly because I was reading Dr. Liptan’s book – and joined in on the conversation more. No longer was I joining in on pointing disparaging fingers on social media. I was panicking inside… and a little bit out. However, I was cute about it.

My husband and I have some distance between us, and today he called me on the phone and immediately began talking about COVID-19. He spoke of how depressed he was about it, his fears for me. Then he asked me if I could come home this weekend.

My response?

“You know, with all this pandemic and my being immunosuppressed… at the end of the day I’m supposed to spend my life with somebody and that’s you. If all we have left is a short little while, I’m coming home to you immediately.”

I could hear him smile through the phone.

Earlier he expressed anxiety about my health in the midst of COVID-19, and proceeded to tell me:

“With the virus you’re better off staying in the country in one place hiding out like you’ve been doing. But yes, I do want to see you this weekend.”

Love in the time of cholera?

Try love in the time of COVID-19.

Bear and I are taking COVID-19 very seriously, as we plan to get me back home safely, but the fact that he cares so much makes dealing with the anxiety that much easier. It’s not safe to go alone.