Sick and Tired of being Sick and Tired

Friday night after work, I hurried home because I knew Brett wanted to hurry out to a basketball game. I called him to tell him I was on my way. No answer. Sometimes he just doesn't hear it. A few minutes later, I called again. Notta. I finally pulled in to our home and saw him sound asleep in bed. Within hours, his voice became more and more raspy and he would get really hot then really cold...


I turned to him and said, "I'm sorry you're sick." Being a man, he sharply responds, "Oh I'm not sick." Right. What is it with men and denying they're sick? Does it really make them feel vulnerable? I, on the other hand, always view it as a time to finally rest. And I won't lie, I milk it.


Brett fell back asleep for a few hours, so I spent my evening on Pinterest (an evening well spent, might I add.) When he woke up, he turned to me and said, "Baby, this is what I'm thinking for my funeral..." The boy went from extreme denial to extreme drama in no time. I love living with this guy...never a dull moment.


Needless to say, the rest of the weekend was spent getting him meds and water and watching him wither away due to his lack of appetite. It's sad and a little lonely when your other half is down for the count. I just wanted to talk to him and watch movies but his head hurt so bad, he wasn't up for anything.


This is the first time I've been around him when he's sick. Weird, considering that we're a married couple, but it's true. He's seen me sick soooo many times, and he has always taken such great care of me. Last summer, he hooked his arms under my armpits and used his hands to hold my head up so I could throw up for 24 hours. He deserves a medal, really.


Anyway, he is finally better and back to work, so this nurse can finally kick her feet up (now that she's done disinfecting every square inch of the house). Ahhh...