HemoWife - a Column by Allyx Formalejo

During my husband Jared’s recent hospitalization, I heard one particular sentence more times than I can count: “We’ll wait for Doc’s approval.” Jared was admitted for a burn on his hand, an injury that, on its own, often follows a fairly standard treatment path. But because he lives with…

When people learn that their loved one has hemophilia, they often jump straight to a mental checklist of risks: bleeding, injuries, factor, emergency plans. Safety becomes the headline. Over time, it can become the lens through which every choice is evaluated. But for many people…

The start of a new year often brings talk of ambitious goals, including growth, progress, and milestones we hope to achieve by year’s end. My husband, Jared, and I have those goals. In fact, we’re approaching 2026 with a specific list of things we want to build, maintain, and improve…

Living in the Philippines has shown me how differently people understand illness depending on where and when they grew up. In many rural provinces, even something as common as high blood pressure gets mismanaged. Doctors may not have specialized training. Medical equipment is scarce. And reliable health education often depends…

When people hear the word “hemophilia,” they usually picture bleeds, factor infusions and other treatment routines, and trips to the hospital. Those things certainly shape the condition, but they’re not the whole story. Over the years, I’ve noticed something that feels harder to explain, yet…

When I look back on the things my husband, Jared, and I did in our 20s, I sometimes wonder how we managed to get through them without more emotional or physical scars. We were young, impulsive, and convinced that nothing too serious could happen as long as we “managed things…

I recently spent an afternoon with a group of parents raising young adults with hemophilia. They were part of a newer generation, people who grew up with a little more information, a little more community support, and slightly more medical options than what my husband, Jared, had access…

As we observe National Family Caregivers Month, I’ve found myself reflecting on a column I wrote in which I admitted that the word “caregiver” never quite fit me. That piece was about rejecting a label that flattened our dynamic into something one-directional. But there’s another truth I didn’t explore…

My husband, Jared, was 11 when hemophilia changed the course of his life. He wasn’t doing anything reckless — just being a boy, jumping around on his bed. Then came the misstep, the fall, the blow to his head. He brushed it off, not realizing that a slow, dangerous…

When people find out that my husband, Jared, has hemophilia and epilepsy, they often say things like, “You’re so strong,” or, “You’re such an inspiration.” He usually smiles politely, then tells me later, “I’m not special. This is just my normal.” That line…