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When a husband is seriously ill

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When a husband is seriously ill

“A disease changes personality. Sometimes you don’t know where the personality is, where the disease is. Here you can only believe that somewhere in the depths he is the same as I met him. And that is how God sees him. ”

We met in the temple at a youth meeting. Actually, I wasn’t planning on going to it, but at some point I got the feeling that I had to go. Then it turned out that the future bridegroom was praying on the eve of meeting about his personal life, and as if he had heard the answer: "Saturday." Therefore, I decided to spend my day off at this event, which I also did not plan to go to. And so came happiness overflowing: the young neophyte joy of God, plus the endorphins of the first mutual love included to the maximum. Our spiritual father, Father George blessed us and later engaged.

I perceived the day of our wedding as a celebration of the triumph of God's will for us. My parents were against this marriage, and I broke many copies, defending the right to choose my fate. And finally, – I, glowing from the inside, in an ivory dress, a full temple of dear people, a buffet in the fire, doves, Victory Park, a cafe …

At the wedding, it was hard for her husband to stand upright and hold a candle. When we walked around the lectern, he was afraid to stumble. We thought that the problem was in the recent operation to remove the torn meniscus, and we hoped that all this was temporary.

But several months passed, and it became increasingly difficult for him to walk. Finally, my dad advised us to contact the CITO, a good traumatologist. There it turned out that the problem was not at all in the leg. The doctor sent her husband to a neurologist, she advised to sign up for an MRI at the Research Center for Neurology. The preliminary diagnosis was "disseminated encephalomyelitis." Then, during the time of the slow Internet through a telephone wire, it was already possible to google. I realized that the matter was serious and that in addition to encephalomyelitis, there is also multiple sclerosis, which, well, God forbid anyone …

After the examination, we went for a consultation at the Scientific Center of Neurology of the RAMS. The doctor was a pretty woman with magnificent blond hair. She looked at us sympathetically and said that nothing is a common thing, you just need to go to their hospital and drip hormones, advised where to buy the medicine. I wrote everything down, and at the end of the appointment I asked about the diagnosis. “Multiple sclerosis,” the doctor said quietly.

Oh … My husband knew less about mine than about the disease. He thought that he would probably die soon, and on the way home he looked out the window of the trolleybus, mentally saying goodbye to the trees, grass. He was, in general, good.

Only later did he learn that it was a long time, that it could not be cured, that it led to disability and gradual muscle paralysis … We realized that the vision that had fallen a year and a half before was apparently a manifest of the disease. The optometrist did not recognize the cause. Later, other health problems appeared, with which the husband turned to specialized doctors, but no one could think that these were all manifestations of the same disease.

At the hospital, her husband’s roommate moved in a wheelchair, although his length of service was only two years … We drew out forecasts from the attending physician. She said that the disease is unpredictable, but on average a person lives about twenty years from diagnosis. Then it seemed like a huge period, a lifetime. I myself was twenty one years old, my wife – twenty eight.

There was no gloom at that moment. After the hospital, my husband felt good. There was a feeling of God's presence that we were incredibly important for Him, that for some reason He entrusted us to be in such a situation.

My mother, meanwhile, was losing her mind. Her vague fears about the groom were not in vain. And the mother-in-law at first did not understand about the seriousness of the diagnosis, but then fell into a panic and despair … A terrible future hung over us all. Gradual fading. Stroller Inability to work, and then to serve yourself …

I was helped by the idea that there is no future, only “now”. Maybe tomorrow the end of the world (and there will be no stroller). Or maybe we will crash in a plane crash. Or maybe they’ll come up with a medicine. There are plenty of options … Why think about what might not happen?

Of course, we wanted and tried to be treated. Doctors immediately said that you need to get into the program for the release of a drug that slows down the course of the disease, and inject it every day. But the husband, against the backdrop of well-being, did not want to begin this process. He was afraid to “get hooked” on betaferon, was afraid that they would stop supplying medicine, and few people could afford to buy it on their own. I did not insist. We found an innovative method – autohemocorrection, dad helped with the money, and the husband went through an almost complete course. But then he became worse again, and we went to his homeland, Kazan, to undergo treatment and receive disability.

In addition to difficulties with walking and other characteristic symptoms, the spouse had outbreaks of anger. This happened for the first time after a course of hormones, and I wrote everything off to them. But they continued on. Anger, annoyance, despondency, grumble … Words that I did not expect to hear from him.

Of course, we also prayed for healing. After visiting a priest now forbidden in the ministry and his prayers, the husband decided that he was healed. He was in remission and was feeling quite well. I was afraid of spoiling something with my skepticism. Suddenly, is it true that a miracle will happen by faith? But the symptoms gradually returned, and in the end even the husband could not close his eyes to this. He went back to the hospital and finally decided to start betaferon therapy … Well, better late than never. But for those who find themselves in a similar situation, I would advise you not to delay treatment.

12 years have passed since we learned about the diagnosis. I’ve gotten used to it for a long time and can calmly talk about it. Especially helped, of course, the birth of a son. Now we have at home not only extinction, but growth, development, life. And the husband … it’s impossible to get used to this disease. She is insidious, and deterioration often comes unexpectedly. Imported drugs are replaced with domestic ones that do not always work as well. But the spouse can walk, and this is the main thing at the moment.

A disease changes personality. Sometimes you don’t know where the personality is, where the disease is. Here you can only believe that somewhere in the depths he is the same as I met him. And that is how God sees him. I try very hard to learn to see this. Maybe this is the main reason why this situation is in my life.

The husband does not want to go to the psychologist, but at least he takes the antidepressant and antipsychotic prescribed by the psychiatrist. With them a little easier.

Yes, we are not rich and are forced to accept help from my dad. This is unpleasant, but it would be much worse if there was no one to help. Perhaps the Lord so wants to teach us humility and gratitude.

I still think that there is no future, there is only "today." And in the Gospel it is written: "enough for every day of their care."

The illness of a loved one is very difficult, but it is still a gift. And what the illness was for my husband, I can only guess, because, as Aslan said in the Chronicles of Narnia, "I tell everyone only his story."

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