Tonight I am a tired boy, but it’s OK to be tired because all of my energy has been expended on being wonderful and making sure my beautiful, doting, life-enhancing and gorgeous other half enjoyed the most fabulous, spoil-some birthday in the history of ever.

I even got up 30 minutes early this morning – that’s a whole half of an hour, that is.

Imagine, rising from bed in tip-toe quiet fashion so as to leave the birthday girl to her beauty sleep, nipping out to the Tesco on the corner to pick up some nice, fresh croissant and fruit juice, sneaking back in and setting out all the breakfast and presents and celebrations to look lovely for when she wakes.  And all before my morning IV’s, too.

Of course, it doesn’t always work as seamlessly as planned.  Tip-toeing out of bed is all well and good, but it’s hard to muffle the enormous, alarming “BUZZZZZZZZZZ” of the oxygen concentrator as it kicks to a start in the morning.  I’ve heard teenagers make less noise when parents have tried to rouse them from their slumber during school holidays.

Still, the advantage of the concentrator in the bedroom is that while the alarm may be startling, once it’s on and running the mid-level hum it generates masks out most of the noises created by banging around preparing breakfast spreads and makes sneaking out of the house a whole load easier.

Of course the easiest way to win someone’s affection on a birthday is to buy them presents, so this was something I took care of some time ago and in copious quantities.  I say some time ago, but being a boy what I mean is ordering them on the ‘net last week.  I don’t want to give you some illusion of forward-planning anywhere akin to the levels K works at, where she has already started assembling gifts for Christmas and people’s New Year birthdays.  Forward planning in my world consists of remembering that there’s a day you need to remember at some point this week.  This month if you’re lucky.

Still, said assembly of presents appears to have been appreciated and it was brilliant to be able not only to entertain my Mum and Dad for a mid-afternoon visit (yet more presents – including ice creams for everyone: they can come again!) but also to make the self-powered trip over to K’s parents’ for a little birthday tea party with most of her nieces and nephews.

As delighted as I have been over the last week to be enjoying something of a return to previous heights, there’s nothing that quite reinforces the value of having at least some state of health than being able to do things without having to second-guess yourself or your body.

A couple of weeks ago I wouldn’t have even deigned to consider seeing both sets of parents in one day, let alone driving us all the way to K’s ‘rents.  To be able to do it all today and to make the day so special for her is a one-in-a-million feeling and it really rams home the importance of making the most of the good days when they come along.

But enough of me – today has all been about K and making her the happiest girl she can be.  I’m fairly confident we’ve managed to achieve it between me, our families and our ever-generous and wonderful friends.

K really is the other half of me – she’s the light to my dark and the sweet to my sour, but I know that I’m just as much to her.  Everything we share we share together (which is meant in a much less, “well, duh,” way than it came out…) and everything we go through we go through together.  Neither of us will ever know the physical struggle the other faces, or feel each other’s pain, but we will always know that wherever we go and whatever we do, we have someone with us no matter what.

Happy birthday, gorgeous, don’t ever stop those happy feet.