I awoke to see my husband sitting up on his side of the bed in the early morning light. It was a Saturday morning, our day to sleep in.

"Are you okay?" I asked him.

"No. My stomach really hurts."

That was unusual. This man never has a symptom of any kind. I have never known anyone who does not get headaches, or heartburn, or nausea sometimes. He gets his annual cold and that's about it. And the only way I know he has a cold is because a gallon of orange juice appears in the refrigerator. It felt strange to hear him complain of pain.

"Can I get you anything?"

"No, I'll be okay." He lay back down.

Now that I was awake, I got up and went about my day. I checked on him now and again, and he seemed to be getting worse. I started to feel helpless and a little afraid. It was so bizarre to see him in such a weak state. It scared me to see my big, strong man so reduced by pain.

My husband takes care of me. He loves to do it, and I love to be on the receiving end. I learned early on to not take advantage of his kindness, because he would do anything for me. He always carries the luggage, pumps the gas, and runs to the store for me if I am tired. I can do it myself, and often do, but his main love language is service. I guess mine is appreciation. It works.

When he said it was time to go to the emergency room, I was thrown. It was my turn to help him, and I was glad to do it, but it still felt foreign to be the strong one. Here's a man who does minor dental work without Novocain, and he wants to go to the emergency room for stomach pain. I knew it must have been bad.

Our only hospital experiences in fifteen years were the births of our children. I was the one in the bed, needing support and encouragement. He was strong for me, and sat by me patiently waiting for hours on end without complaint. Now it was my turn to sit patiently by his side for hours, waiting for test results. Only I was not so patient. Every ten minutes or so while he dozed in and out, I found reason to go to the bathroom, make a phone call, find something to eat, or get some air. Unlike him, I could not sit so still. And he kept apologizing to me for my having to be there all day. When I told him to stop apologizing, he started thanking me.

He was out of pain quickly with medication, but because of how he responded to the medication, they could not give him any more pain relief the rest of the day. The pain slowly crept back, and he studied

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