"I thought I had it bad!"

Ron and I have a whole wheelbarrow load of problems; mutual brain damage, my mental illness, his peripheral neuropathy, blindness, hearing loss, arthritis, and hemiparesis. Neither of us can drive and he has to use a wheelchair if he walks more than 100 feet. I challenge anyone to find a couple that gets more LIVING out of life.

Today was a great example; we went to work and did it all. We stocked. I unloaded an entire pallet of soda, rotated the inventory (Ever had a flat tasting canned soda? Horrible, isn't it?! No one will ever buy one from MY machine!), fixed a naughty coin mechanism, and did snacks. We agreed we will need a junk food delivery on Friday, which means a really early wakup. We talked shop and talked with the customers.

He asked me how I was doing, and I told him I'm starting to run depressed. For me, the depression cycle is like hiking along a cliff. If I can stay on the cliff, I'm OK. Starting to slip? Whip out the things I love list, do a few. Be gentle with myself, take extra medication, ask Ron for more quality time,.. and I don't fall in. If I fall in, it's damned hard to get out and the last time took over a month.

He asked what he could do to help. I told him, I had to run some errands today and I'd love to have him along. He made it happen, adjusting the trips so he could come along.

Ron used to walk into work all the time; the LONG way. On the weekend we have to go in "the long way". I have offered to go in and bring him the work wheelchair, but he always declines. He worries about me overdoing for him and getting burned out. [I made my vows for life and barring physical abuse or adultery I'm there]

Last time, he walked in... but it was very painful. He was extremely grateful I met him halfway with the wheelchair. This morning he told me "It's a wheelchair" and I knew he couldn't face it again.

No big deal to me [shrug]. I want him comfortable. If that means he's in a chair, so what? I don't care if I have to push him; it's fun for me. I have good physical strength.

I still can't find my debit card, I have a terrible time with housekeeping and keeping track of important things, but I have good strength! Ron has very limited strength, but is strong where I'm weak. We make a good team.

So I pushed him and out of work, happy to do it. We had the chair; so he could come along on my errands. We went to Starbucks. We went to a food place he likes. We went to the mall! We went to a gas station for cold soda! We rode several buses; and on one trip something funny happened.

Ron and I had an encounter a few months after his accident. A neighbor asked Ron how he had ended up in the wheelchair; he had seen Ron walking all over, nothing for months, and now Ron in a wheelchair. Ron was obviously very scarred up and partially paralyzed on his right side. Ron told him.

Oh, I remember that, you messed up traffic for hours! Then he gave Ron a long, considering look we'd see often. "Man, I thought I had it bad!" It turned out that the guy was actually a violent ex-con who liked raping women. Thank God I didn't know at the time! [shudder] Thank you, God, for your protection!

So, I have seen that look a lot in the last several years. I can practically caption it. I don't mind that look, because Ron thinks maybe that's part of God's purpose for him, to make people realize that someone out there has a much more difficult life!

I do take great exception to rude, gapey, stares. Yes, he is blind. Yes, he is blind and in a wheelchair. Get over it! When I'm properly medicated I just ignore them, but if my balance is off I get pretty hostile.

So, anyway, the violent-looking, homeless, ex-con with the beer can in a paper bag was giving Ron that look today. I, sadly, recognize the look of a prison tattoo. He had several. The sight of Ron really seemed to get him thinking, especially since we were "cutting up" at the time.

As I headed over to my bank to turn off my debit card, because I just can't find the thing, I reminded myself God needs me like this. With the brain damage. If I were sharper, I'd be driving, and then I wouldn't be riding the buses and handing out Driver Candy. [shrug] I handed out a lot today.

I remind myself that I am a unique tool, created by God for a purpose, and what I see as flaws are actually assets. Ron loves being able to pay all the bills, because I lose them. Ron loves it when I ask him for advice on things; which I do pretty often. Ron likes helping ME out, too. I need it! We really do take care of each other.

So, we had a good day. It was pretty funny towards the end. Ron hardly drinks any liquid. I am sneaky and always have lots of wonderful fresh fruit around the house. He is currently gobbling up some pineapple. He loves that it contains anti-inflammatory things that help with his arthritis. "Oh, it's so cold and refreshing" he gulps.

I had pushed him all over the place, at least a mile or so, in extreme heat and humidity. I went into a store and bought a nice cold Powerade Zero. I drank quite a bit and then offered some to Ron. "No thanks".

I reminded him he'd been out in the heat for a while. "I'd like to try it, but what if it tastes bad? Then I'm stuck with that taste in my mouth!" I told him I had some Diet Dr Peppers. He finally consented.

He took a sip. Then he took another one. I got him to drink about a cup before he stopped. "That's GOOD!"

We both had a good day. I still want to beat myself up for "losing things". I feel "fat". I am mildly freaked out over this photo shoot. I wonder where I put our latest wholesale catalog! The house is messy, and I'm just too tired to do much.

I'm doing what God's got for me to do. That's a big deal. Ron is happy and healthy; I have a healthy marriage and a strong faith life. I have a husband who was delighted to hold the Driver Candy as I got the wheelchair onto the bus, and grinned as I handed it out.

Thank God. He's perfect for me.