Sick Husband Syndrome

My husband is sick.

My husband does not do well with sick. When most people would go and lie down and moan decently in private, my husband wanders around the house moaning. Every movement he makes elicits a moan. He whispers at me from across the room, and gets impatient when he has to repeat himself.

He's currently burning a pot of chili. I put it on the stove, after partially defrosting it in the microwave, and had it sitting on low, waiting for the rest of the lump to thaw and heat. He turned it up, and is currently moaning that it's never going to get hot. I know he's miserable. He tells me several times a minute. But I refuse to allow him to burn the best batch of chili I have ever made. It was so good, that I froze the leftovers for emergencies.

A sick husband is an emergency.

I've been giving him Sudafed and ibuprofen, with an occasional Aleve thrown in. Will he go to a doctor? Probably not, unless he develops pneumonia. And, even then, I'll have to drag him.

This is what happens to people who refuse to acknowledge sickness. The ones who ignore the symptoms and go to work.

I'm usually sick for much shorter periods of time, because I curl up with a heating pad and a blankey, slather my chest with Vicks, and suck down some chicken soup, as well as enough decongestant and painkillers to make me wooze right off to sleep. After maybe two days of that, I'm back to normal.

He's been grousing, whingeing, moaning, and suffering for about five days now.

And so have the rest of us.