How Vuv-A-Licious Mom found her "relationship cortisone."

I had heard of the seven-year itch but I never experienced it in my marriage. In our seventh year, we welcomed our second beautiful child to our family and I have no recollection of an "itch" at all. I wrote off the whole concept as a myth and a rationalization for relationships that coincidentally sour after many--seven to be specific--years.

This year we will celebrate our 15th anniversary and still no itch. Instead, I would describe it as a "rash." You know, the kind of rash that comes with itchy, bumpy protrusions on your body and does not respond to quick over-the-counter remedies.

It can appear suddenly and disappear just as fast. Sometimes it is a mere annoyance and other times it is associated with extreme discomfort. Worse, it causes me to wonder if my husband has the same rash and when I imagine that he does, it takes all the fun out of my own whining and complaining and makes me sad.

Fifteen years ago we promised to never go to bed mad at each other. Slowly, the strength of that promise eroded. It changed to that we would go to bed mad, but I would not sleep and ultimately we would make up in the morning. Next, I would sleep but wake up with a horrible stiff neck--my body telling me that my mind was stressing while I was sleeping.

The anger caused by his giving me a stiff neck always led to the fight that ended up hashing out the issue and eventually making up--but the anger build-up actually took me days to recover from. Now, I sleep like a baby and can go days without even addressing the issue that is plaguing us. I even brag about how long I can go without talking to him, asking the kids to pass the salt and enjoying the peace not speaking affords me. We don't bother to address the issue, we just ignore it and move on, neither one of us saying "I'm sorry."

I have never been very good at the "I'm sorry" thing. I never felt comfortable saying it. Sorry is a silly word, the kind that when you stare at it long it enough you are convinced you are spelling it wrong. It's that thing you say after you have already done something wrong and for me, once you have done something wrong you have to fix it with more than words.

I hate clichés so I'll skip the one about "actions" but just hearing the words "I'm sorry" doesn't get anyone over the hump of the anger they are feeling over the thing for which they are owed an "I'm sorry." It's the stuff the offending party does after the words that make the offended party forget to be angry and it's the desire to do all the make-up stuff that separates the relationships that last from those that don't.

So, I ask myself when I am pondering whether ours will be one of the ones that lasts and feeling sad about the "rash," do we still seem to want to put in the effort to make up? More importantly, are we willing to work harder at just being nicer to each other so there is less to be mad about? If I had a food allergy that gave me actual hives would I not just avoid that food? Why can't we avoid behaviors that bring on the "rash"?

I could not find the answer to that question. I could theorize, but I couldn't comprehend how to take the initiative to implement behaviors that might make me seem weak or vulnerable. Life went on with calm days and "rash" days with growing tolerance for the latter. We made hopeful plans for a romantic 15th anniversary trip.

My nana used to say, in Yiddish, "We make plans and God laughs." This was to be our first trip without kids in years until five days before, Eric felt a lump in his "left nut" as he so eloquently put it, and our plans changed.

Testicular cancer was not on our calendar, nor was surgery or chemotherapy or any of the attendant stuff that comes with cancer. Nothing was expected or could be expected. My emotions were raw and my feelings instinctual and at my core, my instinct was to take care of this man who my children and I love. I instantly forgot itches and rashes and just began to pray that this man would live to annoy me.

I began to feel like a mother bear, protecting him and fighting for his interests, and most interestingly, he didn't seem to mind. Overbearing and over-zealous behaviors of mine that used to embarrass him, made him proud. His compulsive need to push himself at work and in his fitness regimen became something I respected rather than resented. Our whole relationship was topsy-turvy. Eric actually said to me one day, "You're so kind to me ... it is absolutely unsettling."

I don't know, it sounds so trite, but one act of kindness begets another and suddenly you find yourself being considerate of each other most of the time. I agree with Eric, it is unnerving, but then again, not that hard to get used to.

We find ourselves reminded of our shared values and shared desires. We find ourselves fighting the same fight, as a team and supporting each other. We find ourselves admiring the qualities in each other that complement us instead of getting bogged down in our differences. We find ourselves communicating because we don't have time to play the games that come with a failure to communicate. I can't be bothered with setting him up to fail me by dreaming of him reading my mind about what I want him to do or say. So I find it surprisingly and refreshingly uncomplicated to tell him what I need or want and he is doing the same. What a concept!!!

In the middle of this little battle we have going with cancer--our futures uncertain--we find ourselves at peace, maybe even a little enlightened. Our prognosis is good in so many ways and an itch or a rash will never take us down.

Epilogue: Eric kicked some serious cancer ass and ran the 2007 NYC Marathon to prove it. This summer, we will celebrate out 18th anniversary and participate in our first sprint tri-athalon.

BTW, we still "get the rash" once in a while ... sometimes big giant hives ... but if we forget how much better life is when it is itch free, Eric's three-month checkup always rolls around to remind us of what is really important.

Livestrong!!