Wednesday, April 15, 2015
The Weaker Sex
I am going to just cut right to the chase on this one.
There is a reason why God decided it would be the women who gave birth.
And it has very little to do with the fact that our anatomy is more accommodating for it.
Let's face it.
If men had to endure childbirth....it is pretty likely that mankind would not have made it past the first few generations.
One labor experience, they would have called it quits.
And the survival rate of infants back in the day was not so good.
I'm guessing the survival rate of men in childbirth wouldn't have been either.
Don't get me wrong.
I think men are very strong and mighty.
If I were in a dark alley, I would certainly hope I had a big, burly guy to accompany me, as I would feel much safer.
I also know that there are very few pieces of furniture in this house that would have ever made it through the front door without the manly muscles of my husband and his hunky helpers.
When it comes to A LOT of things, yes, women are the fairer sex.
Unless, of course, we are talking about getting sick.
Then forget it.
With the exception of Jamie Frasier (if you don't know who I am talking about, you really need to start watching Outlander....or read the books. You will thank me later) men turn into ridiculous babies when it comes to illness and pain.
I have 20 years of marriage to prove this fact.
This past week was the icing on the cake.
I have always (in the back of my mind) known that if there was ever a time when someone in my family would experience serious illness, it would have to be me. There just is no other option.
I am the tough one.
I have mastered the art of surgery.
I have birthed two big babies without the assistance of drugs.
I can handle this stuff.
My husband on the other hand....not so much.
When he gets sick....the world stops spinning.
(I am guessing this is a similar experience in many a household?)
Let me take you through my exciting journey of the past 7 days.
First of all, I need to say that the internet is a blessing and a curse.
It offers up a plethora of information that can be both very helpful, or it can cause extreme paranoia.
Especially when I man uses it to research strange health issues.
Web MD is NOT an actual Doctor.
Why do people not realize this?
Two weeks ago, my beloved noticed a weird sore on the bottom of his tongue.
It was painful, and not something he had had before.
After a few days, it hadn't gone away, so he went to urgent care to have it looked at.
They said it wasn't viral...and said little else...except that they were referring him to an ENT specialist.
And here is where the saga begins.
Here is a photo from the internet that looks a lot like what he had.
Of course, it's a photo of a patient diagnosed with cancer.
So, naturally, he was now sure that is what he had too.
I was a little concerned initially, but, as I prefer to do, insisted that we not worry until we know if there was something to worry about.
The next morning, he woke up with swollen lips.
And started feeling icky.
And the paranoia grew.
By the third day...his tongue appeared completely normal, lips were fine, and I assured him that if it really was cancer, it certainly wouldn't have just disappeared.
However, I, apparently am an idiot, and he was having none of it.
He was dying, and that was all there was to it.
Oh...and he actually was starting to feel like total crap.
This went on for the next two days.
I was ready to just go dig a hole in the back yard for him, so we could bury him without the additional cost of a graveyard plot, but the weather was so wacky last week, and it snowed, so that put the kibosh on that idea.
I had always known he was a bit dramatic over getting sick, but until this point, I hadn't realized I had married a complete hypochondriac.
Now I knew it for sure.
He was certifiable.
However, I continued to play the role of supportive wife, and prayed for that damn appointment with the ENT Dr. to get here QUICKLY!
(It wasn't until the next Monday, by the way.)
On Friday, I was up to my normal morning routine.
(Laying in bed, looking at Facebook on my phone)
and he walks in the bedroom.
(He was supposed to be at work.)
He was completely distraught, and tearing up.
I knew something terrible was going on.
He said "It's time. You need to take me to the ER."
After calming him down, I called the nurse's hotline (because I needed another woman on my side, and I had no desire to fork out a $200 co-pay to have an ER Dr. give us the same diagnosis that I could give him....he wasn't dying...but I was pretty darn sure he had the flu, and therefore, he just felt like he was dying.)
We went to Urgent Care instead.
He really did feel like crap, and almost passed out in the waiting room.
It's too bad that he wouldn't believe me that he was fine and would live, because I have never seen him that emotionally distressed.
He had gotten himself SO worked up, and completely convinced himself that this was it.
He had a horrible disease and there was no chance of the news being good.
It was probably time to start making those good-bye phone calls.
To make things even more eventful, his nurse was a giant male.
There is nothing like walking your (dying) husband to his room, while this very beefy nurse looks at you like "dude, why is your husband totally wigging out?"
It got even better when he had him lay down on the bed, and tears just started rolling down his cheeks.
The man-nurse grabbed the box of kleenex and said "Um...is there anything I can do for you? I can uh....get you a blanket??" I just smiled and said "That's okay....we will be just fine."
Shockingly, the Doctor arrived, and assessed the situation, and came up with the exact same diagnosis that I did! (I knew I should have gone to med school!)
Mark never mentioned his cancer paranoia, so being the excellent wife I am...I delicately brought it up.
"So....this tongue thing. I know my husband was initially concerned that it could have been something much more....dire...?"
And then a miracle happened.
The DOCTOR said the magic word, without any real prompting from me.
He said "Oh....no. If that had been anything serious, like CANCER, it wouldn't have gone away, it would have kept growing. No...it 100% isn't cancer."
And the angels sang....Alleluia! Alleluia! Your wife was right again!
It was Influenza B.
And this is why he felt like shit.
All that was left was for the nurse to come and give us our check-out paperwork.
But right before he came in (like 2 second before)
the tears started flowing again.
I asked what was wrong NOW???
"I really thought I was gonna die!"
[enter big man nurse]
who once again looks at me like "dude, you gotta get this guy to man up!"
[wife grabs paper, and exits....quickly.]
When we get in the car, I asked if he was going to cancel his appointment on Monday, since he now knows he is fine.
"No! I need to make sure!"
He is FINE, by the way.
So there you have it.
No need to mention to him the fact that I shared any of this with you. ;)
Maybe just "I heard you had the flu."
We will keep him thinking we all still consider him super manly.