a good patient

Jake was wearing his grumpy pants as we headed into Boston for his monthly treatment yesterday. He'd already had one leg in 'em as we cooked dinner on Sunday night. We all get grumpy sometimes. 

The thing is, we've gotten pretty good at integrating the whole MS thing into our lives. We use the treatment time as time together, and enjoy chatting with our nurse buddy Suzanne. We like our monthly "date nights" to the Publick House in Brookline because dinner in the city makes more sense than driving home during rush hour. 

But sometimes, there is work to be done and driving busy roads gives you a headache, and why do we have to do this? badgers Jake's brain. He didn't want to get poked and didn't want to answer questions and he was hungry, darn it.

And I'm totally on his side when he's grumpy over MS. The guy never gets grumpy over it! He's a champ, making jokes with all the doctors and nurses, never flinching at all the pokes and prods. He hates florescent lights and sterile smells, and goodness knows he usually can't bear to share how he's actually feeling. He's a fixer and a helper. He loves being useful for people. But then MS came along and forced him to be helped. To be listened to. And no matter how much I love him and stand by him, no matter how committed I am to being at every doctors appointment and treatment, it's not ME with MS. Its not my body being treated, and its not my mind covered in lesions. When I think of that, I cannot help but be overwhelmed with admiration for this strong, brave, passionate man. He is a good soul, my friends. A good, brave, loving soul.

Like I said, grumpy pants was hungry. The nurse asked if he needed anything. Flippantly, jokingly, he said "yeah, you have any food?" And we laughed, expecting nothing. Instead of nothing, she quickly affirmed that in fact she did have food for him. Would cream of broccoli soup be ok? 

Seriously? Seriously God? You've got a sense of humor. One of Jake's favorite soups is cream of broccoli. 

Broccoli soup, chips, crackers, and two chocolate chip cookies later, my man was free of his grumpy pants. And I was giggling with delight, taking gleeful photos of my husband eating soup. Sometimes, it doesn't take much to make life a little more do-able.