I don't usually talk much about the great love of my life, but yesterday as I was sitting on the Doctor's examination table, swinging my legs, waiting and watching my husband's furrowed brow as he read a magazine, looking 'O so fine' in his suit and tie, I thought, "I wonder how many women's husbands come to the Doctor's with them?"

I guessed probably not many and just at that moment, he looked up from the zine and said, "You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen." He said it in that way and you know it wasn't just an ordinary compliment. It makes you blush and feel warm all over. He makes sure that I get them regularly, but sometimes, they're just a little more colorful than normal.

Having a chronic illness is hard on everyone, especially for those who live in the house with you, which happens to be just him and I. He sees me at my worst. He takes it when I get scared and lash out by being either grumpy, or a tearful mess. He keeps up on all of my medications and knows my symptoms better than I do. But the thing he is the best at, is making me feel cherished.

When the Doctor told me that I had an ICD, an incurable chronic disease, I felt like he also handed me a blank coloring book. I could see the pictures of all the fun things, but they had no color...no meaning. My love, gave me a great big box of Crayola Crayons, the ones that have so many colors in it they have to make-up the names. He colors my life with his love and his sacrificial giving. And when I'm too sick to color the pictures, he gladly colors them for me. I am a lucky girl, indeed.