I thought I'd join my husband in blogging about his journey which has now become my journey as well.

You can read his blog here:

https://gettinglessfatthefunway.blogspot.com

In a nutshell, my husband has had diabetes for many years now but over the last fear years stopped monitoring it and trying to get healthier. He gave up for many reasons and I only realized recently that when he gave up, I somewhat did as well. 

When he was enthusiastic about beating his diabetes and losing weight, I was too. But when he became disillusioned and stopped trying so hard, I didn't say anything. I honestly don't know why except...maybe it was easier? After all, changing your entire lifestyle and eating habits isn't easy. 

So I take partial responsibility.

December 7th 2022 everything changed. He'd gotten a splinter in his foot over the weekend and it became infected, so he went to Urgent Care where they lanced it and sent him home with antibiotics. But every day when I dressed his wound, I saw it didn't seem to be healing. I mean, I'm not an expert but it didn't look good to me at all.. When he developed a fever on the 7th, I insisted we go to Urgent Care, aided by the adamant (and spot-on) insistence by my BFF's ER doc husband who had said from the very beginning that this could be extremely serious, such injuries, especially for a diabetic, is nothing to mess with and Daws' situation was not being handled correctly by his doctors. He said they constantly saw these kinds of cases in the ER and this could be very very bad.

He was right of course. The ER admitted him because oh yes, it was very bad. They hooked him up to IV antibiotics for 4 days. Put him on insulin. Gave him a slew of drugs. He saw several specialists who poked and prodded and tested him every few hours, day and night.

It was very serious.

That night, I had to leave my poor husband in that ER room and drive home alone...scared witless. Not knowing if he'd lose his foot, his leg...or maybe his life. 

I cried every night. Alone. Terrified I'd lose him. Every day I'd visit when I was done working and every night drive home and cry in bed alone.

But with expert treatment he did improve and they sent him home after 4 days in the hospital with strict instructions on how to dress the wound and the what drugs to take and when. 

Ten days off work. Ten days off his feet as much as possible.

He hated it.

But today he is completely healed. 

And, the silver lining is: it gave him (and me) a second chance. This was a gigantic wake-up call for my Dawson. One of the worst, if not THE worst, experiences he'd ever had. And not only that, but he knew how much he'd put me through. Our kids and grandkids. His co-workers. So many people were impacted by this, most of all him. 

 He vowed to never let such a thing happen again if he could possibly help it.

He told me with the most serious look on his face ever that he was done being reckless with his health. That he never wanted to go through something like this again. He begged me to believe him and I said I wanted to but he'd said such things in the past and did not follow through.

He said this time he swore he meant it and promised with everything that we have together that there would be a massive change in his approach to his health. That he is dedicated to changing for the better forever.

And, as it turned out, he was 100 percent correct. 

Today he is so much healthier and happier than he's been in a long time. 

And so am I.