Friday, January 22, 2010

Dear Sick Husband,

I know you're not feeling good. I really do. Your eyes are red and watery, you've got a fever, you're stomach is in full-on revolt, you're coughing.

And I'm so, so sympathetic. I was recently sick for about 3 1/2 weeks, and it was miserable. So I feel your pain, honestly.

But for fuck's sake.

I've never encountered a transformation quite like the one you go through when you're ill. You go from big, strong strapping man to sniveling drama queen with a barely functioning brain in no time flat, and it's kind of ridiculous.

Yesterday I got a message from you at around 1:15 in the afternoon. You sounded all croaky and miserable, and said that you were on your way home from work because you were sick. And that you had left Vail at 9 in the morning. In other words, over 4 hours ago. And that you were still a half an hour from home.

Vail is a 1 hour and 45 minute drive from where we live.

As you explained when I called you back, you had been stopping at every rest stop along the highway to puke and rest.

Which is pitiful, but if you were so sick and puke-y, why get on the road at all? You've got an apartment with a bed in Vail. If you couldn't stand up without hurling, why not get in bed until you feel like you can make the drive without it taking 5 fucking hours??

But I held my tongue and left work early and stopped and got you some Sprite. I took your temperature and gave you medicine and tucked you into bed. I made you tea and toast and soup. I kept the children entertained and fed and bathed and PJ'd them by myself.

This morning I found you asleep in the guest room, where you went when you were afraid your coughing would disturb me. And I appreciate that. I asked you how you were doing, and first you just grunted, but then finally mustered up the energy to say, "not good."

"What's going on?"

"My lungs hurt. I can't take deep breaths. I feel nauseous."

"Do you want me to call and make you a doctor's appointment?"

"Yes, please."

"OK, honey."

"But not for today."


"What do you mean, 'not for today?' Why not?"

"I can't go anywhere. I can't stand up without wanting to throw up."

"Do you want me to leave work and take you to the doctor?"

"Oh, that would be great."

It's a good thing I have strong eyeball muscles, otherwise I would have sprained them from the rolling.

"OK, honey. Here, have something to drink, and take some more medicine."

"O...K....," you croaked.


See you later, honey. I'm off to take the kids to school and then to go to work. I'll be home in a few hours to take you to the doctor.

You big baby.

Your loving wife,



  1. Anonymous10:22 AM

    OMG - you crack me up! I know how you feel though. There's something about that damn Y chromosome!!! - Candice

  2. Yes. It's the Man Cold.

  3. I'm sorry to say that I can be a lot like Jason in the sickness scenario. SUCH a baby. Fred, however, will be "fine" and refuse to go to the doctor until he has to be admitted to the hospital. I'm not exaggerating. It happened this summer.

  4. That was hilarious - thank you!! It's like you took the scenario right out of our lives... Judy