Dear Medical Community, I’m Praying for Your Other Half

Times are certainly uncertain. And while we know that not all heroes wear capes, one thing that we know for sure is that the heroes of 2020 wear scrubs.

But y’all. On Monday night as my husband snored next to me in my bed — it hit me.

What about your other halves? What about your wives, husbands, partners? What about your girlfriends, and boyfriends, and fiancés?

Your other halves are in their beds. But you are not snoring next to them.

No. You are fighting a damn battle. And as we know, the armor is limited.

I do not pretend to know what it is like. I do not get it.

But I am scared. And I am worried. And I can only imagine what is it like to watch your love walk out the door. You walk out clean and sanitized only to walk into a building infected with a virus. You walk out the door with cracked and raw hands that will be washed and sanitized more times than some have done all month. You walk out the door on the brink of seeing things you wish you never had to and will never be able to unsee. You walk out the door only to return with a whole lot more exposure than I chance at the grocery store with my wipes and masks. You walk out the door with a load much lighter than the one you will return with.

That has to be so incredibly difficult to watch. It is so out of your other half’s control. They watch the clock. They know ish where you are and what you are doing. They know when you should be wrapping up your shift. They pray that you are wrapping up your shift on time — maybe for the first time all month.

Your other half is worried just like I am. Your other half is worried about money and groceries and schooling and sanitizer and cabin fever and taxes and everything else he or she carries.

But your other half carries your worries, too.

That is a whole heck of a lot of worries to be carrying around.

Dear medical community, I’m praying for your other half. If we can help in any way, holler. I know the grandparents can’t wait to snuggle your kids. I hope you are planning the best staycation with your other half when this is all over.

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Rebecca is an attorney by day and a toddler wrangler by night. She is a product of divorced parents and grew up in both Thibodaux and Franklin, Louisiana. Rebecca attended Loyola University of New Orleans and Southern University Law Center. Rebecca married her high school bestie in 2012. Quinton and Rebecca went through months of infertility before giving birth to Maxwell Lincoln in 2015. In 2016, they were surprised by a baby boy due in June 2017. But, in February 2017, they suffered with incompetent cervix and delivered sweet Theodore Paul too soon. In October 2018, after an incredibly difficult pregnancy, a cerclage, and a whole bunch of bedrest, Fitzgerald Joseph was born -- a happy, healthy, and perfect rainbow. If you can't find Rebecca, you can summon her with pot of freshly brewed coffee or look for her in Target or behind the kitchen island where she is hiding from her kids with a very generous pour of red.

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