when nothing else matters

My husband John had a stroke in his sleep Thursday morning. It feels surreal to even write that, since he is 31, an avid runner and takes great care of himself. John woke up feeling awful and had a really hard time getting out of bed. I encouraged him not to go to work, but he did and as soon as he got there his boss (thank goodness) noticed something was majorly off and he was rushed to the ER.

I assumed it was exhaustion. Our dogs had been sick, and that night had been the first full night of sleep for either of us in a week. When they confirmed it was a stroke, I was overwhelmed with so many emotions I could barely speak. My husband is the kind of person who runs (and wins!) 5Ks, how could he possibly have had a major medical event like this?

The past few days still feel surreal. As I’m sure all of you know, hospitals are cold and depressing places, but John received wonderful care from a great team of doctors and nurses. The good news is that he is expected to make a full recovery. There will be therapy, and several doctors appointments, but he is okay. There is no doubt in my mind (or the doctors, more importantly) that John’s athleticism and clean diet are major factors in his body’s ability to recover. He won’t be returning to work for, (at minimum), a few weeks while he heals.

In the immediate aftermath of John’s stroke, I momentarily forgot that football brings him joy, in the same way fashion brings me joy. I told our friend I would try to keep him away from ESPN, away from games, etc. during his recovery. It seemed cruel for him to be surrounded by reminders of what he’d be missing, right? Then I felt a small twinge of happiness when I opened up a few packages after we got home. Oh, I had forgotten about fashion for a few days and it felt good to say hi, even just for a moment. In a teeny, tiny instant I was able to feel a glimmer of hope. Because that’s what fashion does for me, it gives me hope, and joy. And I know football does the same for John. So, I will continue to sit next to him during games while I scroll TRR (unless his team is playing, in which case I do pay attention). Did I really think I’d be able to keep the man who was throwing a football on the beach with a complete stranger (in the midst of taking outfit photos for me on a date night) a mere few weeks ago away from Monday Night Football? (see pic below)

on our “honeymoon”, at my parents beach house, July 2020

John and I often discuss how lucky we truly are. Lucky we met, lucky we are able to support each other in our respective careers and lucky parenthood has filled our lives with more happiness than we could have ever imagined. We never thought John surviving a stroke would be on this list, but thank God it is.

I’m eternally grateful for my mom and sister, who flew out to help with childcare and everything in-between and friends who have sent flowers and food (and let me vent and cry to them on the phone). I’m also grateful for Johns colleagues- who visited him in the hospital, went above and beyond during his stay and have offered so much help since. The fact of the matter is that the events of last week could have had a much worse result, so instead of living in self-pity I am going to try and swim in the gratitude and optimism I’m feeling at the moment, even when I’m deliriously exhausted.

To know John is to love him. And I love him so, so much. I can’t wait to get back to field jackets and fall shoes with you soon. Thanks for reading.

xx, Liz

our wedding night, July 2020 (we had a 10 person, family only ceremony in my parents backyard)