To say that Trey, my husband, is my biggest supporter is a bit of an understatement. He's so much more than a supporter, he's my sustainer, provider, heck! even my supplier. I am speaking to the fact that my husband gets up everyday, goes to work, does great work at his job to secure our insurance coverage. After reading the mind-blowing For Women Only, I understood that being a provider is a big deal for all guys. As a member on our team in my diabetes management, he certainly does his part.
But even if Trey wanted to change jobs, careers, or become a clown, I know one thing is for certain: he'll take care of me. You see, Trey promised me when we were engaged that he would take care of me, that I would be safe with him (my parents, especially Mom, made sure to grill him about that). It's sounds like the romantic cliche' you always hear at the end of a movie, but for someone with a chronic illness, it means so much more.
I have so many things to worry about in diabetes management: testing, hypos, food, exercise, protein, kidneys, eyesight, pregnancy, etc. All Trey has to do is just be my husband, which he is awesome at! I really don't rely on Trey as much for the truly diabetes-related things. Not because he's not willing, but because I'm too stubborn and independent [insert opinion here]. But honestly, I'm happy with that. 99% of the time, our marriage is like any other non-autoimmune-diseased marriage. If I wanted to bring up diabetes stuff more often, I know Trey would oblige me (which has happened, like coming home crying from an endo appointment).
Trey's been there since Day #1: here and here and here. And he'll be there at day #:end. Trey doesn't see my sites, or tubing, or calloused finger tips. He just sees me. I feel normal when I'm with him. I don't want to talk diabetes with him, I want to talk "us". We recently met a woman who had been diabetic for 46 years and her husband. They told us the story of her pregnancy and getting as low at 9 mg/dL (holy cow!) during labor and how the husband demanded giving her a shot of glucose instead of crackers and juice like the nurses wanted to do (hello?! 9 mg/dL?!). As we were leaving our new-found friends, I remember thinking "I wonder if Trey and I will share those stories 46 years from now?" Can you add some gray hair and wrinkles to this picture:
When I called Dexcom a few weeks ago to ping our insurance company about coverage for my CGM, I honestly expected bad news. I was at home when I got the call, just starting dinner. Heard my phone ring and expected it to be Trey telling me he was on his way home. Instead, it was an out of range number. "Hello?" "Hello, Holly, this is [name] from Dexcom. I'm calling about your insurance coverage." Oh geez, I thought, here we go. This is going to be Kerri's sequel. "You have excellent insurance coverage. They are covering you for 90% of the costs." My mouth dropped, and I started to cry. "Really?!" We talked details for awhile, but my mind was too excited to really concentrate. Trey came home and I immediately jumped on him. "Yes?" he inquired while holding me up. "It's all because of you . . . "
A few more pictures of us:
First ever "Trey & Holly" picture, circa February 2004
By the Tennessee River, 1 year before diagnosis
Finally, a funny picture from our wedding, 8/23/08.