It’s not easy to hide a blog from your wife.
I’ll be writing a post and there she is at the door. Thank you to the inventor of tabbed browsing. Click, I’m on Yahoo! or craigslist.org. However, after yesterday’s post that included her, I’m feeling guilty about keeping this blog a secret. Yes, it’s for my daughter, but my wife may find it more interesting, at least in the short-term. Or, maybe she won’t.
There’s another reason for my guilt tonight. My wife bottles up a lot of emotion about my health. Today, I was about to suggest she check out blogs written by spouses of those of us with the disease with no name because I’m mad at it tonight. Then, I had a flash forward to her walking into my office and saying “you wouldn’t believe this butthead called the Unknown Cystic.” “Well, Honey, I might.”
Or worse yet, and in a Lucy voice, “Ricky, you got some explaining to do before I smash your blogging hands and rip out your deceiving heart and feed it to the damn German Shepherd you made us get.”
I do feel I made the right decision charging ahead with this blog, alone. That’s my gut feeling. I’m not sure the posts would have been the same, as raw, as frank. (Remember, I didn’t say “as good,” as my wife is an excellent editor.) But up to now, I’ve felt guilt free. Not tonight. Tonight I’m feeling guilty about keeping a secret from the woman who has been through so much with me, and made me someone who can get invited back to a friend’s house after a dinner party.
It will be interesting to see what she thinks when she reads this one day. Hopefully, I won’t be around to get the ass-kicking of a lifetime. But she’ll track me down no matter where I am, eventually. I hope.
[Honey, Love, love, love you. With frosting on top and gummi bears. Remember, forgiveness of crazy people is always the right thing to do.]