I was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis in the spring of 1996. I was 25, had been married for just two years, and we had a three-month-old son.
My treatment requires daily injections, and I could not have managed this illness without the support of my husband, Jeff. I’ve continued to work, as a kindergarten teacher no less, so I often suffer from extreme fatigue at the end of the week due to the combined effects of the disease and working with five- and six-year-olds each day. Many weeks I literally collapse when I arrive home from work on Friday evenings.
Thankfully, for the last 24 years, my husband springs into action every Friday night, and in addition to taking care of our kids when they were younger, he takes care of me. Every Friday features a Papa Murphy’s chicken and garlic pizza (a favorite of mine), wine, cannolis, and a DVR-ed episode of the television show “Nashville,” but only from the early seasons when it was still good.
I know that after a long week of chasing around kindergarteners and managing a debilitating neurological disease, I can come home on Friday and let someone else take care of me. Having consistent and ongoing support from Jeff has allowed me to manage not only my physical disease, but also my mental health. My illness is an ongoing challenge, and it’s changed my life, but my husband’s support and care has too.
By Kathy Kurowski