There are a few signs of hope on the horizon. The first is that my husband got his first dose of the Covid-19 vaccine yesterday and I’ll get mine later today. I have some reservations, about the risk of an allergic reaction (because I’ve had some very sudden, weird new allergies to foods recently) and about possible neurological side effects down the road and probably most significantly that the vaccine won’t protect us against the new strains of the virus that are going around.
But still, getting the vaccine at all is an act of hope. I trust science. And it gives me a feeling of hopeful anticipation that life may return to normal later this year. I miss going on date nights to Dallas with my sweetie and I miss going to concerts.
Another sign of hope is that my husband is finally getting his colostomy reversed in a couple of weeks. There were times when it was questionable whether that would be able to happen, especially when he was still under the care of his first oncologist. The colostomy has always been a bigger deal to him than to me but I am very happy for him and feel hopeful that it will be a source of significant healing for him.
I’m also hopeful because I’m applying for a lot of jobs, on average about 5 a day. I feel confident that I’ll get one eventually, when the time is right and when the right job comes along.
I am learning to live more in the moment instead of fearing the future. Yes, my husband will likely die before I will, and it will be too soon whenever it comes. But I don’t think it will be this year. So instead, I’m moving forward with hope in my heart while planning for the future.
I’m looking so intently for jobs not just because I’ll have to be able to support myself, but also because the extra income can make our lives better for as long as he’s here. We can pay down debt and build up our savings and hopefully get to travel. I’m back in that mind space of feeling optimistic about my future and empowered to control what I can.