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My Sick Husband



Does the “sickness and in health” part of the wedding vows apply when your husband has a bad cold that he has turned in a made up, over-exaggerated terminal illness? For the third day this week, my husband is at home lying in bed because he is sneezing, has a runny nose and perhaps, a minor cough. It seems that his employers allow sick days for “grown babies”.

Last week, I was miserably sick. Same symptoms, but with a minor fever and a horrible cough. How many days did I spend in bed? (None! Nada!) I went about my usual daily-weekly life, of going to work, dropping off and picking up kids from daycare, taking of cooking and cleaning, etc. and no one even noticed I was sick. I took plenty of daytime cold medicine, drank lots of water and even kept the hand sanitizer nearby so as to keep the kids from getting sick. I am dreading going home this evening to a husband who thinks having the common cold means he is terminally ill.

Truth be told, the quickest way to get a grown man crying for his mommy is the common cold. It seems to take precedent over what the real children need, because of whining, sniffling (poor baby – he can barely reach the Kleenex box) and carrying on that goes without saying…come on wives, you know what I mean! I am trying hard not to wring Hubby’s neck, because that may add another ailment (a sore throat) to his growing list of what he thinks are incurable woes. If only he would stop calling me at work to tell me what else hurts, I can keep myself from strangling him when I get home. And this evening, the dishes won’t get done, the vacuuming isn’t happening and the kids aren’t going to get fed because my “poor” husband is sick. (Why can’t he just suck it up?)

I decided to visit the web and get some advice in dealing with sick husbands. I somehow managed to find some humor in two sources: A Joke and an eHow.com article.

Lastly, it has occurred to me that I can find humor in being the one with Rheumatoid Arthritis. I would rather deal with joint aches and pain on a daily basis than have to hear him whining about his aches and pains. Could you imagine? He would quit his job and stay in bed all day, all the time and expect me to wait on him hand and foot. I guess at that point the “until death do us part” portion of our vows would kick in.

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