An Ode to My Husband...or...Why Midwives Made Men Boil Water

Jimmy Swindell is the most amazing man I've ever met.  I never really envisioned dealing with my ITP throughout adulthood, but I could not ask for a better partner for dealing with all this.  When anything goes wrong, he is right there, asking what I need and offering to do things for me.  However, when my nose was bleeding today and there was really not much he could do, I felt so bad for him.  All he wanted to do was help make things better and yet, there were very few things he could do.  Jimmy did get me some things I needed, drove me to school and Walgreens, and fixed my lunch, but he could not heat up a bowl of soup that would stop my bleeding.  I hated it for him, but it led to a revelation.

This is why midwives made husbands go boil water when they were delivering babies.

When water had to be boiled for births, I'm sure it was an ordeal.  The husband had to go chop wood, build up the fire, draw the water, and wait on it to boil.  I've read that way back when, people obviously weren't on the up and up on hygiene, so really, there was no point in having boiling water.  Obviously, it was a ploy to get men out of the way since there was really nothing they could do to assist the birth process, or so was the thought of the times, but at least getting the water to boil made them feel like they were doing something to help and kept them busy.  Sometimes I think life was better then.

Don't get me wrong--Jimmy never got on my nerves or aggravated me with his attentions.  I appreciated his lovingness and willingness to help during my grossest moments. There are some ITP-related things I never thought I'd do in front of people other than Mom and Dad.

Jimmy, I love you and am thankful beyond words for your love and support. You didn't pick an easy woman for a wife, but we make an amazing team.  The next few days on decadron are going to be a rollercoaster, then this weekend coming off of it, but we'll make it through.