Hope on the Side

He woke up this morning and said, "I don't feel good." He didn't look good. His face was thinner. His eyes, withdrawn.

"Michael, I think we should start today."

We had planned on beginning the SCD on Sunday, his day off. To finish reading "Breaking the Vicious Cycle", make shopping lists, prepare...but it didn't make sense to delay this. He might not be able to have everything in the introduction diet. We weren't 100% ready. But I could at least make him some eggs in the morning, some broiled fish for lunch.

"You're right, I know." He said. He didn't complain but I knew he was a little disappointed. He had been looking forward to finishing off the last of his Sun Drop sodas, maybe a pizza or some other illegal favorite before we threw ourselves into it. But his health wasn't up to the wait.

I think I told him I was sorry. Because I am. I'm sorry there's such a horrendous thing as Crohn's. I'm sorry he has to deal with this flare-up mess. And just when he was doing so well.

I hard boiled some eggs for his breakfast, broiled some tilapia and off he went to work. Then I went shopping after I finished some of my own work and bought the things I needed to make the soup and some beef. When I got home I called him.
"So, how are you? Did you eat your lunch?"

"Yeah. And I threw it up."

"Why baby?!"

"I'm not sure. But don't worry. I went to the diner at lunch and asked them to broil me a plain piece of chicken. I ate that. I'm okay."

Interruption: He just called to ask me if we could afford his working two half days instead of full ones. Of course, I answered. "Because I don't think I can take another full today tomorrow." Ouch! My heart. He can't even last a full day at work anymore.

I hope, I wish, I hope, I wish. Please, let this thing work.