In Sickness and in Health

I knew it would happen; it had to happen sooner or later.  I had been burning the candle at both ends and it wasn’t looking pretty.  I resisted, I denied it coming, but yet, it came in the dark of the night.  Silently, violently, I had the flu bug.

First off, when a person doesn’t get sick very often they a) don’t know how to handle it very well and b) have no patience with being sick thus wanting to return to normal duties way earlier than they should and ending right back in the sick bed.  This coupled with the fact that moms just don’t let themselves be under the weather just about does one in when you are ailing and at the mercy of fate and the care of “the husband”.  The thought of my betrothed caring for me about cured me right off, but I was down for the count and remembered our solemn wedding oath “in sickness and in health” and had to take my chances.

His first command was for me to stay in bed.  Not too tough because every time I lifted my head I was swirling and was only going to ascend when the call of the porcelain goddess came.  An appeal for a drink was given and received back within minutes, with ice no less, and brought to my bedside. But as the first hour wore on I started to notice the quiet, the calmness of the household and was a bit taken back.  I thought something had happened to my love bunny, my snookums, my caretaker.  Perhaps he too had fallen victim to the dreaded crud and was helplessly, hopelessly in a state of infirmity and desperately needed my help.  I must get to him.  I slowly rose from the bed and quietly peaked downstairs and there he was with a book folded on his stomach snoozing away oh, so peacefully.

The second hour came and went with a strange silence.  Only the clatter of dust bunnies growing and the anger of unwashed dishes in the sink calling out to me were heard.  My husband did not take notice of these horrid hums of the household.  Actually I think he successfully ignored all the shrieks of delight that the house has when no one is watching. He, refreshed after his nap, was now busily working on his computer.  He didn’t come up for air for hours.

I watched more daytime TV than I had since successfully planning my college schedule around my favorite soap operas (it was Luke and Laura vs. Macroeconomics…duh, no brainer).  I tossed, I turned, and I was bored out of my mind.  My husband ventured up only sporadically, frightened, I think, to either find me worse off than I was or to own up to the fact that he would have forsaken me for his first love, the Internet.  It didn’t matter.  The hours of tranquility had taken their toll on me and I was bursting to chatter about anything, anybody, anytime.  I rambled endlessly about whatever for seemingly minutes when I realized this is really what marriage vows are all about.  It is the literal interpretation of the words along with the understanding between two people who know when to listen and when not to.  My husband is getting that, slowly, and can even add the requisite facial expression if need be (concern, despair, happiness, etc.) in response to the tone of my voice.  My lover was worth a million dollars right then (don’t worry, it changed the next hour).

Maybe I am feeling a little melancholy or the tail end of the flu is still with me.  I just wanted it to be noted that I did not, in any fashion, allude to when my husband has been sick.  Men have a completely different view of things when they have a cold, are under the weather or lying on the sick bed. That offers up an entirely new discussion that I might have a few words for.  Stay tuned.

Cynthia A. McClelland, curious observer of the obvious with interpretations of the oddities of daily life. Mother, wife and lover of the furry, resides in the north Lake Tahoe area.

Cynthia A. McClelland © 2003-