Driving Miss Davy.

In 2017, Hubs was in a job that didn’t make him happy. I’m not going to go into the details of his story as it is not my story to tell. In brief, he reached out for help and was let down by the support on offer externally. In the mean time, we were in the process of buying a house which had been delayed for months (we were meant to move in June and were still waiting for the keys in November).

So, this far into the story, we’ve got shitty job + lack of external support + buying a fucking house. Tough gig.

We moved in November (by which time I had ceased contact with significant people in my life) and in January, Hubs left the shitty job.

I remained positive. I had started a new job in education and was still working part time locally. We could manage, for a short time, on my salary. Less than a week later, my part time hours were cut, without discussion, and I began to panic that we would lose our home.

In the meantime, Hubs was physically ill and the impact of this on his ability to do anything saw his physical and mental health deteriorate. He was interviewing for jobs and was offered one pretty quickly at the end of February and due to some kind of miscommunication from the recruitment agency, he was informed that he hadn’t confirmed his acceptance of the role quickly enough and within a couple of days, the job offer had been withdrawn.

So, this far we’ve got leaving shitty job + lack of external support + just bought a fucking house + family trauma + no earnings + my hours cut + job offer withdrawn. Tough gig.

On the same day, after a night out to try and cheer him up, his physical illness caused a coughing syncope where he choked himself out and passed out on the sofa in front of us. We called 111. They sent out First Responders followed by an ambulance. ECG’s, snow, quickly pulled together go bags. An inserted cannula where I excused myself at the risk of vomiting. A night in hospital where Hubs snored into oblivion and I had a nice chat with a seventy odd year old man who was covered in his own faeces. At least, I kinda hope it was his own faeces. Jesus… How do you end up covered in somebody else’s faeces?! Anyway, I digress. Unable to sleep in the chair at the bottom of his bed, I was convinced that Hubs was going die. Because there really is nothing more fun than anxiety and fear at 4am.

We left the hospital with a referral to the neurologist, arriving home in the snow to find that our boiler had stopped working and we were without heating or hot water (and would have been for FIVE DAYS if Hubs wasn’t so shitting clever). We slept, rested, recuperated.

So, this far we’ve got leaving shitty job + lack of external support + just bought a fucking house + family trauma + no earnings + my hours cut + job offer withdrawn + coughing syncope + neurologist referral + no boiler. Tough gig.

And then we had to notify the DVLA.

Hubs was banned from driving for six months, even though his neurologist reported that there was no issue and the episode occurred towards the end of a viral illness and was highly unlikely to occur again. Now he was unemployed and unable to drive, narrowing the job market substantially.

A couple of weeks later, the withdrawn job offer called back and wanted Hubs to reconsider the role. He had to apologetically turn the offer down since he was now unable to get there. He was gutted and I suggested we see if there were other options available. In the end, we decided that I would drive him to work and hopefully, he would find somebody on his shift who lived near by to help with transport.

Finally, things seemed to be looking up. Until my part time job cut my hours again, leaving me with four hours a week. With everything that had happened since January, it was becoming more and more important to me to know that what I was doing was making me, was making us, happy. I had little choice but to hand my notice in.

So, this far we’ve got leaving shitty job + lack of external support + just bought a fucking house + family trauma + no earnings + my hours cut + job offer withdrawn + coughing syncope + neurologist referral + no boiler + medical driving ban + my hours cut further. Tough gig.

And from there, things started to get better. Hubs probably wouldn’t agree but they did.

In the true sensational style of synchronicity; a few days later I was offered a teaching post alongside my current educational post and I delightfully accepted. I am inspired by words and to teach English has always been a dream for me. Hubs loved his new role and began to return back to his delightfully dickhead self.

And that’s what we’ve done for the last seven months. I have driven him to and from work, a seventy mile round trip. Twice a day. At 5.45am. Thankfully, Hubs met a fellow shift worker who lived near by and most of the round tripping has been a twenty mile round trip. Twice a day. At 5.45am. But, you know… It’s been FINE. And on the plus side, I’ve finally got into a routine of getting up at 6am every day. I’ve been trying to do that for YEARS.

We wouldn’t have been able to do it without our amazing friends and family who have stepped in when I haven’t been able to take him or drop him off. And I can’t thank those people enough for helping out when we needed them and for also giving me the odd break when I was quite literally at the end of my tether.

It has not been easy. But it has brought us closer together. We’ve learned more about each other and what we are able to deal with together. It has made us both value the independence we have and the friends we have who roll their sleeves up and dive into the shit show when we need them to.

At the start of this year, both of us were struggling with mental health issues, poor physical health and job worries. It hasn’t all been an easy ride to the secure point we are both at now. What we have learned is that it is so important to be happy in your work as that will pervade every aspect of your life if you are not (and if you are!). We’ve learned that together, we can face anything and that there is nothing either one of us wouldn’t do to support the other. We’ve learned that we have incredible friends and family who we honestly wouldn’t have been able to manage without.

Reflecting back on this today, I wonder if I would have stopped drinking if this whole situation hadn’t occurred. When he lost his license, I was overcome with the fear that if I lost mine, we would be lost. Maybe there was some unconscious factor at play that built into my already concerning dialogue around the drinking. Maybe I’m just growing up and taking responsibility at long last for my own health and well-being. Either way, we wouldn’t be where we are today if we hadn’t been through all of the shit that led us here.

So a toast, with your morning coffee or cup of tea, to all of the shit that got you to where you are now. You are fucking magnificent, never forget that.

And a second toast to mourn the fact that I am unlikely to ever drive again because I am no longer allowed near the car. I say mourn, I mean celebrate of course. Chin, chin!