My husband went in for surgery on October 23. He was able to come home on November 14. Twenty-three days came and went, filled with worry and sleepless nights, but also joy and small improvements; there were life-saving measures, blood and iron transfusions, PICC lines, multiple surgeries and multiple NG tubes, several catheters, ostomy bags, skilled surgeons, amazing, kind, dedicated RNs and CNAs, hospitalists, anesthesiologists, wound care nurses, physical and occupational therapists, nutritionists and a Rapid Response Team that changed everything one very scary night. And I'm sure this isn't even all.

There were also family and friends: coworkers who selflessly donated their personal vacation time to us both and spent their own weekends raking up our leaves, neighbors who hauled away garbage, co-workers who carried the work load (for both of us) (and still are), cousins who stayed nights at the hospital when I had to leave to sleep, who brought me food, who sat with my husband so I could step out, friends who ran errands for me, Knights of Columbus who donated home medical equipment, daughters who worried just as much but stayed strong and listened to me wail, online friends who rallied to support me mentally with uplifting messages, a father-in-law who stepped in to do a little electrical repair on short notice and even a local business (Sav-Mart) who helped us immediately and free of charge, when they were under no obligation to.

We can't say this emphatically enough: thank you.