Get ready to do some math.
What does...
Six doses of antibiotics
+
Five days of facial hair growth
+
Four bottles of ginger ale
+
Three x-rays
+
Two trips to Patient First
equal?
One very cranky husband.
Dan has pneumonia. He's been laying in bed for hacking up his lungs and shivering from chills, all but wailing for his mother. During the first two days, I played Florence Nightingale with Mother Teresa's patience: fluffing pillows, making Blockbuster runs, refilling ginger ale cups, giving him control of the remote.
We're on day seven, folks.
Going back to school last week was the longest five days ever. With a few high-maintenance students and the parents that enable them vying for every last second of my time, I came home wanting to lay on my spot on the couch and veg. Instead, I was still on call for drink refills, medicine runs, back rubs, and sympathy. I can't tell you how many times Dan wheedled, "Hey, hon, could you..." followed by a fit of raspy coughing nasty enough to make me put down my slice of cheese pizza.
I think Dan enjoys all the coddling, to the point where he's tested my goodwill. I put my foot down when he tried to hint that nookie would make him feel better. Hacking up phlegm constantly? Not sexy.
Tomorrow: Day Eight.
Man, I need a sick day.
What does...
Six doses of antibiotics
+
Five days of facial hair growth
+
Four bottles of ginger ale
+
Three x-rays
+
Two trips to Patient First
equal?
One very cranky husband.
Dan has pneumonia. He's been laying in bed for hacking up his lungs and shivering from chills, all but wailing for his mother. During the first two days, I played Florence Nightingale with Mother Teresa's patience: fluffing pillows, making Blockbuster runs, refilling ginger ale cups, giving him control of the remote.
We're on day seven, folks.
Going back to school last week was the longest five days ever. With a few high-maintenance students and the parents that enable them vying for every last second of my time, I came home wanting to lay on my spot on the couch and veg. Instead, I was still on call for drink refills, medicine runs, back rubs, and sympathy. I can't tell you how many times Dan wheedled, "Hey, hon, could you..." followed by a fit of raspy coughing nasty enough to make me put down my slice of cheese pizza.
I think Dan enjoys all the coddling, to the point where he's tested my goodwill. I put my foot down when he tried to hint that nookie would make him feel better. Hacking up phlegm constantly? Not sexy.
Tomorrow: Day Eight.
Man, I need a sick day.
Update: Dan's feeling much better now. I wrote this post about two days ago, felt too sorry for him to post it, and decided to wait until he was back to work. Nothing like a blog to finally be able to vent! :) Yay for him feeling better!
5 comments:
That's so funny that you couldn't post it because you felt bad! Adorable! What a good wife ;) Glad he's better, hope you don't get it!
I read it when you first posted it and then couldn't get back to it. I thought "Oh no, Dan got really ill and she felt horrible about teasing him on the blog" Glad to hear he feels better.
I don't know WHY it is that men are SO FREAKING DRAMATIC when they're sick, but it's true.
Glad he's feeling better...glad for you!
so glad he's doing better...sheesh!
You crack me up--love this post & am finding it so timely because my husband just had 2 moles removed from the bottom of his foot and he is milking it because he has stitches. I too did everything for him (would leave for work after he got up and made it to the couch which had his breakfast, snacks, juice, coffee, remote controls, piles of books & magazines on the coffee table and even a movie already in the DVD player so all he had to do was use the remote from the couch) Yesterday he had his first day back in law school of the semester so I rented crutches for him and dropped he and his lunch off at the door. Later that day he said he was coming to my office (also on campus) and I saw him walking down the sidewalk CARRYING the crutches. Guess who gets his own breakfast again?! :) Ha! In his defense, I do feel bad-the stitches are gross and pulling and look like they want to pop out.
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