I had a long talk with my husband today about my grad school plans. Although he shares my nervousness about whether or not my health will hold up through the experience, ultimately he decided that I do need to do it. I’ve decided the same, for so many reasons.
For one thing, sitting at home on disability is likely to make me more depressed once he’s gone. It already contributes substantially to my depression even now and I think it will be even worse once he dies.
For another thing, although giving up the government benefits of disability and his survivor benefits at age 50 if I’m still disabled are significant, they’re also not really that much. I would still be barely above the poverty line and it would be pretty scary.
He agrees with me that I should go for the program at Baylor, even though it’s more expensive; it just has too many advantages.
As he put it, if I can establish a successful career as a therapist, I can pay off the (admittedly substantial) costs with the life insurance money. And ultimately, that use of the money will be a good investment in my future.
I wrote an article for Medium last night about the things I’ve learned from his cancer diagnosis—the most significant being that you have to go for what you want in life. And I really believe that this is it for me. In fact, I actually want to do it more now than I did five years ago.
He thinks I’ll be good at it, too. I’ve gotten all the members of my household to open up to me, in part because I like to ask a lot of probing questions.
When I go will depend on the next months of treatment for him.
Yesterday I also got a tattoo in my husband’s handwriting that says “love is stronger than death.”
I’m getting another tattoo next weekend of the phrase “don’t dream it be it” on the inside of my wrists near my hands. I thanked him for being so cool about me getting more and he said I had to be authentically me. 🥰
I really, really don’t want to lose him. He is such a good man and is my best friend in the entire world.
In the meantime, I’m also trying to work on healing my inner child but I’m finding it really tough. I don’t remember what things I actually liked as a kid. I honestly keep coming up with “nothing” as my answer but I’m sure that’s not accurate.
My inner child is buried very, very deep and I have so much disgust for her. I guess I have to figure out why.