Mike came bustling into the room, all sweaty, just back from his morning run. I’m propped up on the bed, grumpy. Mike starts fiddling with my pill bottles.
“Morning, Babe!” he says, handing me a pill. I glare back at him. “Water” I remind him, ungraciously.
“You OK?” he asks, pausing to give me a look.
I sigh. “Last night I had a dream that you cheated on me.” Mike rolls his eyes. This annoys me further. “AFTER I went through chemo AND tamoxifan.” I stare at him. The cheating bastard.
“That dream sucks” he says, handing me another pill. I’m getting pissier by the second. He is not nearly remorseful enough for his fake-cheating. I start again: “I can’t believe you wou–”
Mike cuts me off, briskly: “Babe, LOOK. You own my heart and my dick. The. End. Now take your stool softener.”
And that’s where we are. It’s almost 14 years later, and I still crazy-love this man.
The Draugelis Blog 
I hate stool softener.
Also: hilarious post.
God, I love you two!!
That.is.awesome.
Ok, first time visitor and I feel compelled to comment. I scrolled through these recent posts: Chemo. Kindergarten. Flowers. Be brave. This one. I have shed enough tears for tonight.
I love your family.
I love this love that surrounds your life.
No shitty ass cancer can crush it and that’s the truth. It’s too, too much, reading this far, so I’ll stop. But I’ll keep thinking of you. Be brave but know strangers like me are holding you up, too. I’m mentally sending the opposite of chemo to all that love, that it may multiply, flourish and sustain you forever. I hope you feel it.