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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."

WTF??

"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.

*sigh*

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,

Wendy

4 comments:

  1. Anonymous10:22 AM

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

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  2. Yes. It's the Man Cold. http://lemongloria.blogspot.com/2008/01/man-cold.html

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  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.

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

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