Is it my imagination or do men turn into infants when they get sick? I'm just wondering because I have a 38 year old infant on my couch!
Don't get me wrong, I love my husband very much. I would do anything for him, and I know he would do the same, but he is driving me crazy!
Saturday evening he began to feel bad. He works in a doctor's office and had tested 19 people positive for the flu last week. I guess it was only a matter of time before he came down with the symptoms himself.
We had been invited out to eat that evening. I knew he wasn't feeling well, and told him he didn't have to go. I would decline the invitation. “No” he said, “I will go, I will be fine.” So, we headed out. When we returned home, he went straight to bed. I knew he was sick.
Monday morning arrives, and he drags himself out of bed. Coughing and moaning. I ask him if he is sure he is able to go to work.
“Yes, I'm not running temperature, I'll be fine.” So he drags himself out the front door.
At noon I get a call on my cell phone, and it's our home number. Yep, they sent him home.
When I arrive home from work, he's asleep on the couch, with Theraflu, sugar, honey scattered all over the kitchen counter. There is an empty Nyquil bottle on the coffee table. I kissed his forehead, and he is burning up with fever. I asked him if he had asked the doctor to call in any medicine for him.
In the most pitiful voice he could muster he said, “No.”
“Why not?” I asked. Don't forget, he works in a doctor's office!
“I forgot. I just felt so bad I just wanted to get home. Will you call for me?”
It's not like I don't have anything else to do. I have my routine each day. I come home, throw laundry in the washing machine, unload the dishwasher and reload it. Find something for dinner, cook it, clean, ECT…
So, I do what every loving wife would do, and I call the doctor's office. In the mean time, I can hear my husband moaning and groaning like a baby. Now, not only do I have to do what I usually do, I have to go pick up medicine, which is a 20 minute drive one way.
I hear him call for me, “Honey, can you come sit with me?” I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs! I went to him and rubbed his arm, reassuring him that he was not going to die. Then I went on with my business.
Another moan, this one even louder, then a cough.
When my daughter arrives home from school, we head to the pharmacy to pick up the medicine, and go pick up dinner through a drive-thru. When I get back home, he is still on the couch. I wake him up, and tell him that I have his medicine.
In the most pitiful voice I have ever heard, he said “Will you bring it to me?” Then another cough and moan.
Soon it's time to start winding down for the evening. I usually like to do some writing at the end of the day. I head to our office, which is located in our home, and as soon as I sit down, I hear his pitiful voice.
“Can you come sit with me?” cough, cough. “I feel better when you're with me.”
By this time, I am about to pull my hair out! “I'll be there in a minute.”
“What are you doing?” cough, cough, cough.
“I'm checking my email.”
“Couldn't you do that when you got home?”
I think that's when I threw my shoe at him.
I enjoyed this, Cara. It was cute and funny. It also described my husband.