Poor Keith

"Poor Keith!"

I think this about ten times a day lately. 

Which is odd because I used to just think poor me.

I do all the house work, caring for the kids, and no time for myself. Believe me, I complained daily about my lot. 

Now I feel so guilty about all the things I don't do and all that Keith and many others have to do for me and for my children. 

The last few weeks have been particularly hard for Keith and I.

I recovered quickly from my last treatment and was feeling good - and then two days later, it hit me!

One of the worst colds I've ever had.  I started to run a fever, so I went in to the doctor. My blood counts had dropped too low.  They put me on a antibiotic and gave me ordered to "lay low"

Which, of course, made for a horrible week for Keith - as if he need to have even more on his plate.

He literally had an 8 inch high stack of papers to grade, as well as a lot of church demands with both tithing settlement and Christmas aid for the needy.

But he did it all. He cooked the meals, he cleaned the house, he attended all the kids school programs, and he never once complained. 

How lucky am I?

Seriously, though, "Poor Keith!" doesn't seem like enough to say.