Saturday, May 07, 2011

Hey! I'm well!

Whaddaya know! Poof! Feel great, yesiree!

Years ago (I am reasonably sure it was 2000, but I would not stake my life on it), the husbeast and I had an... incident, you could say. The annoying start of a trend, you could say.

2000 was the year my mother was sick in Ohio, and I was living in Hawaii. Well, there were three years like that, but 2000 is the year I logged enough miles (in planes) to go around the earth more than once. (I quit keeping track. It was depressing.) Between the stress, the jet lag, and the fact that planes are seething pits of germs, I got sick. A lot. All the time.

The husbeast, unreasonably, I thought, found this upsetting and worrisome.

I kept explaining that it was a series of colds. I was run down. I was on planes all the time. I WAS FINE. His answer to this, after a few months, was to make a doctor's appointment for me, haul me down there, and physically shove me into Dr. R's office. Given no choice about it (the husbeast, y'all may have noticed, is considerably larger than I am), I arrived at the doctor's office spitting mad. Dr. R asked me what was wrong, and I delivered a five-minute rant that started with "I've been sick for a couple months".

It took some effort, but Dr. R did not laugh. He did allow that my being sick for months did seem like a reasonable thing for the husbeast to be upset about. (Bah. Dr. R ALWAYS sided with the husbeast.) However, he did agree with my assessment, wrote me a prescription for chicken noodle soup and bunny slippers (seriously; I loved that guy), told the husbeast I was fine, and turned me loose. You could tell Dr. R loved the whole thing.

Spring in Hawaii, I used to get pneumonia. Some pollinating plant or other combined in unholy union with my asthma, and if I wasn't super careful, blammo. (One of the few things I found truly annoying about living there.) I would resist going to the doctor, usually giving in (with no grace whatsoever) when the husbeast made noises about taking me. Again stress reared its fucking head, though, and got the better of me.

I'd been in a nasty, four year long lawsuit, and we had just about settled the whole damn thing, when the plants pollinated and my asthma went crazy. I figured I could sleep it off. (In my defense, some years, I really could.) I felt worse and worse, my voice began to disappear, and a fever started creeping in. BUT I WAS FINE, DAMN IT. Then, one afternoon, the husbeast called. You guessed it. He informed me I could go in my pajamas, wrapped in a blanket, or I could get dressed. He was on his way to pick me up at that moment.

I got dressed.

By then, Dr. R was using the husbeast as a gauge for how sick I was; if the husbeast appeared with me in the waiting room, it was time for concern. I went into the exam room. The husbeast waited. I came out (imagine, if you will; doctor, nurses, receptionist, patients all over) and told the husbeast, "It's pneumonia again." He replied, "YOU DUMBASS". Everyone gasped. I rolled my eyes.

Down at the pharmacy, they asked me if I'd had those drugs before. I said yes, I'd taken them when I had pneumonia the year before. The husbeast said "YOU DUMBASS". The pharmacists and customers were horrified. I rolled my eyes.

So, this Friday on the phone, the husbeast said "you've been sick for two weeks. It's probably time you saw Dr. B." After some quick negotiation, I have the weekend and if I'm not doing better Monday, I can make my own appointment or I'm sure the husbeast will do it for me.


(We'll get back to the knit-along Monday, latest. Thanks for your patience.)


jeaniebabb said...

While this year has been one of more illnesses than usual for me, they have all been viral, rather than opportunist bacteria taking over when I was down. If husbeast needs help getting you to the Dr I'm tempted to drive cross country to help him!

Roz said...

Hahahahahahahahaahahhaha This post made me laugh, because I'm the same way!!

Alwen said...

Man, I'll bet I wasn't the only one reading to the end and waiting for the "YOU DUMBASS."

Solitary Knitter said...

I think we are living in parallel planes. I to avoid the dr. at all cost and since my husband is a P.A. we are able to avoid it longer than most families. But when its time he usually sees it way before I am even ready to consider the possibility. adding to our illness 2 of our 3 daughters and I have a bleeding disorder it can complicate our health care. So my husband also announces drs appts. much like yours does, and the love bickering you do while at dr. office, pharmacy the norm for us also although we are met with amusement from those around since at dr.s office they work with my husband and so it is a side of him they don't see often same at the pharmacy. So all I can add is be glad you have a husband that looks out for you like he does. I have many friends and such who have husband that don't even realize they are sick unless it finally gets serious enough to practically land them in the hospital. Hope you feel better soon and use the situation for a good chuckle it wil also help you feel better.

LyndaF said...

I don't go to the doctor because I am sick. I go to the doctor because it sets my husbeast's mind at ease. That's always worth doing. Why he won't go to set my mind at ease is what puzzles me.

Leah said...

This is hillarious! I am totally the same.
My excuse is that my grandfather was an army surgeon and all his children (except the one which went missing in action France) died early because they didn't go to the doctor earlier. (I don't know why I believe this is a good excuse.)

I hope you are well and had a lovely mother's day.

Roxie said...

Chicken soup and bunny slippers!! I love that doctor! You DUMBASS!

Anonymous said...

Hope you are feeling much better. Have to laugh, though, as I am the one who dragged hubbie to the doc (his doctor at the time had actually volunteered to make a house call!!!) because he had been running a 102 degree fever for three days and it kept coming back every time fever reducer wore off.
It is a sign of love...

Amy Lane said...

You know, I just wrote a story called "I Love You, Asshole!" for just exactly this reason. Sometimes, "I love you!" is said best when it's a series of threats to haul you into the doctor and then the word "DUMBASS!" snapped out in public.