How to Set Your Husband Straight: A Heartfelt Story of Recovery, Five Feline Friends, and Finding Strength After Illness

Reining In My Husband. A Diary Entry

Thank you for your kindness, for every like, comment, and thoughtful response to my stories, and for your generosityevery single pound means the world to me, and my five beloved cats are grateful as well. If you find the tales enjoyable, do share them with friends; it brings a little cheer to this authors heart!

After returning from the hospital, I found myself in better spirits, ready to tackle the usual chores from the very first morning. Yet that morning, as I opened my eyes, a quiet sense of rebellion took hold of me.

My husband, Richard, was already limbering up, stretching his joints with the determination of a man who has always valued his morning rituals. Even in retirement, Richard hasnt abandoned his routines; every day starts with his series of exercises to ease his aches and pains.

Normally, I would hurry to tend to Molly, our beloved long-haired cat. I’d clean her tray, feed both Molly and Charlie, our ever-faithful spaniel, then do a quick tidy in the hallway and kitchen after their nighttime escapades. I’d then whisk Charlie out for his early walk.

In the afternoons and evenings, Richard and I would stroll together through the local park, enjoying the peace and quiet. But in the mornings, while my husband was busy with his health, there was always so much for me to do.

I’d dash back from walking Charlie, rushing to whip up our usual modest breakfastcottage cheese with honey and dried fruits, cheesy crumpets, or sometimes eggs in various styles.

For me, this morning frenzy counted as exercise, but while in hospital, the doctors insistedno amount of housework could replace real physical activity.

After his stretches, Richard would make the bed, grumbling that it wasnt a mans task and that all the household responsibilities fell on him. Twice a week, hed do the laundry and hoover the floors, never shy to voice his disappointment that Id supposedly failed to get everything done properly.

To be fair, hed also do the washing up after breakfast, apparently convinced it made him the perfect helper.

Once breakfast was out of the way, Id cook lunch and then settle at my computer to earn a little extra. Even in retirement, I refuse to count every penny.

Richard, on the other hand, would scoff at my freelancing, viewing new purchases as unnecessary extravagance: The wardrobes are full enough, arent they? Usually, Id simply give in; Ive never been too fussed about clothes, especially since Richard always complimented how lovely I looked for our age. It was easier to let him buy another drill or gadget with my supposedly frivolous earnings.

But then illness changed everything, so drastically that I barely recognized myself.

It happened out of the blueone moment I was walking to the shops, the next Id fainted on the street. The paramedics whisked me to hospital; the doctors were horrified after seeing my blood tests, surprised Id managed to keep going at all.

Even Richard was shaken, pale as a sheet as he visited me, hooked up to a drip. At home, he struggled to cope, finally realising how much needed doing.

He couldnt wait for me to come home. He truly does love me, I know that.

For the first few days back, I rested as the doctors instructed. Richard hovered about, frequently asking, Are you feeling better yet, Susan? Not quite? Well, you certainly look less pale!

Hed chuckle and say, Dont get too idle, or you might forget how to walk! Best get back to your usual rhythm…

Most times Id agree, but this morning I felt no urge to throw myself into the household whirl.

I watched Richard, engrossed in his stretches, waiting for me to get on with my chores. But for the first time in ages, I didnt see the caring husband. I saw a man, perhaps quite unaware, ready to pile every task back onto my shoulders.

Suddenly, I felt resistance.

The doctors words echoed in my mind, grave and insistent.

You dont think about yourself, and youve trained your husband not to notice your efforts. You do so much, always with a smile, never complaining. Yet you ended up here in an ambulance, with anaemia so severe it could have killed you.

In hospital, it took five blood transfusions before my tests were anywhere near normal.

As I watched the blood run into my veins, I thoughtHow odd, a part of five strangers now keeps me alive. Could something from them change me too?

Perhaps it did, for on returning home, I no longer felt compelled to please Richard at every turn. Yes, I love him, and he loves meeven if he grumbles, he does things other men wouldnt dream of. But he always promotes his contributions and diminishes mine.

Id once accepted this, being of kind disposition. Now something inside had shifted.

For the first time, I wanted to focus on myself and old passions. For example, play the piano that had gathered dust for years, or simply explore new hobbies not yet defined.

I got up, and beside Richard, I too began to exercise. Surprised, he muttered, Did the doctors go over the top with you? Taking up fitness now, Susan? You look wonderful already. Go feed Molly and Charlie, get breakfast on, will you?

The doctors orders, I replied, my tone sharper than usual. He said I wont last long otherwise. Do you want me dead?

Richard looked properly taken aback. Maybe he thought this was just a phase, the after-effects of hospital. He didnt even protest when I told him, Youll take Charlie for his walk while I feed Molly and get breakfast ready. Itll be quicker that way

I surprised myself at how quickly he agreed. Inside though, something felt unsettled. As though a new strengthfive new strengthswere guiding me now, telling me I was perfectly within my rights to bin those old dresses and buy new ones with my own saved earnings. Telling me I should exercise, become more fit, and perhaps revive my piano skills.

Five new, firm decisions. With a twinge, I realisedFive transfusions, from five people. Maybe their strength and resolve came to me too.

There are tales from transplant patients, how new tastes, memories or skills arrive from donors. Perhaps the same happens with blood. Why not?

Looking at Richard that morning, my gaze was different. No longer meek, but full of confidenceborn not just from the doctors stern words, but from this new, robust energy humming within.

It was clear Richard was struggling to adjustthe world where his Susan was always gentle and obliging had shifted beneath his feet.

You know, Richard, I said, for once unafraid of his reaction. I finally understand why youve always thought I do nothing. You never saw it. You never noticed how hard I tried, how tired I became, or how much I did to make things easier for you.

But now you will. So dont be surprised when I chuck out my old clothes and buy new ones! And Ill play the piano too. You always used to laugh, said all I could play was Chopsticks and Greensleeves? Well, listen now

I lifted the piano lid and, almost by instinct, played something beautiful, long forgotten but deeply familiar.

Richard watched, eyes wide with awe. Susan, how are you doing this? Youre not the same! Youve changed.

His face showed confusionand perhaps a little fear. He was used to one version of me; now here was someone stronger, more determined. It likely unnerved him.

But I smiled. Not my usual apologetic smile, but a real one, full of anticipation. I felt a fire kindle inside, sparked by five brilliant new embers. This wasnt about surviving, but truly living.

To live fullyleaving space for myself and my desires. And perhaps, a new love for my husband, built not on self-sacrifice, but mutual respect.

Ill never know those donors, but they must have been strongmaybe even gifted. They didnt just save my life; theyve filled it with promise and happiness.

Richard now looks at me with admiration.

They say its not about asking why a hardship happened, but what its meant to show us. Maybe these troubles were a reminder of the beauty in life.

The joy of spring, the bracing chill of winter, the drizzle, the frost. Every day is a miraclethe sky, sunlight, and the warmth of loved ones, even their flaws. Were all only human.

If your loving husband grumbles and moans, sometimes its right to rein him inso he remembers hes a man.

As long as we can, lets live fully and cherish everything were giventheres simply no other way.