Since I am avoiding the real world right now I thought I would share something that happened in a 2 week period and lasted over a month. This true story happened 2 years ago this month and still makes me laugh (poor hubby) and since I am avoiding all things not light and fun right now I thought I would share this with ya'll. Sorry for the duplication to those that lived it with me back then.
Hubby, being the ever supportive husband that he is just gave me permission to quit my job and leave us with 50% of our household income going out the window.(YIKES)
But since I was depressed, crying all the time, having heart palpitations and just plain being a bitch he may just have wanted me to shut up and quit bitching – but I digress, I want to believe he was being ever so supportive.....you know like me.
I had just been off work for just enough time to be able to sleep again and not think about work.
It was dark out and I was sound asleep when I heard a loud THUD. A thud that was distinctively my 6’2” hubby who is built like a linebacker falling to the floor. Being the sweet thing that I am I pretend I don’t hear this because damn it, I can sleep in today! But then the THUD begins to moan. So I say in my supportive wife voice, “Honey are you okay?” He whimpers back, “No” AH DAMN IT, I am going to have to open my eyes and get out of this warm bed ...son ofva bitch!
So I get up to find his naked ass on the floor. He is attempting to get up to the bed. So I assist him to the bed and he is withering in pain. I ask him what the hell he did (all the while mustering support but I just wanna go back to bed)
He tells me he has no idea. NO IDEA? You fall out of bed and you have no idea where this pain came from? Weren’t you fine when you went to bed?
He insists in his macho way that he can get up and shower for work. He tries to stand and gets right back to the bed.....a few times. He can not stand.
Finally he is able to hobble to the shower.
I suggest I drive him to work because this is his right leg – his driving leg for heaven’s sake.
But of course he’s a macho ass man who can not admit that he’s not 25 and invincible.
He will drive and kill himself to show me he’s just fine! Hey, as long as the life insurance policy is up to date then Hubby can go drive into traffic.
He comes home that evening and tries ice, tries heat, bitching, and then finally percocet and alcohol. The latter two seem to work best. I say, “How about I make an appointment for you to see an orthopedist?” “Oh let’s give it a few more days” he says.
As the ever obedient wife I immediately go upstairs to the computer and look for a doctor in our health care network.
The following day I make an appointment for my stubborn husband who is still insisting he does not need to see a doctor.
He whines for a week but secretly loves having my left over percocets with alcohol and acts like I don’t know it.
Yep he’s old, but not so mature just yet....but ya gotta love him.
Fast forward – He goes to the doctor and they give him a shot and comes home all cocky like it’s no big deal.
I don’t want to make him cry so I don’t tell him that this will not last forever – I mean I am the supportive wife right?
Now he thinks he is fine and indestructible. A week or so later he awakes to a throbbing big toe.
I see him limping into the shower in the morning as he gets out of bed. I ask what happened to you overnight for heavens sake?!
He says, “I don’t know but my toe is huge and red and it’s killing me”....”Look at it Margaret!”
Again attempting to be sympathetic and supportive I laugh. (bad margaret!)
But I recover by saying did this hurt before bed? No, was his reply.
Hmmm......that’s a head scratcher.
I’m thinking he has begun to hit himself after I fall asleep to steal more of my percocets.
BUT I am the ever supportive wife so I do not mention this.
He whimpers and limps for a week. On Sunday he can no longer wear shoes and I say for the 315th time that I think we need to go to the doctors or Urgent Care today. He fights me at first about this.
I know, I know, I should have told him they were giving out Vicodin and fishing lures at Urgent Care on Sundays between 1 – 3pm to the first 50 people in the door to lure him there.
But hey I said I was supportive not smart.
We get him to Urgent Care and he comes out with prescriptions in his hand and I think this will make him happy but he looks pissed off.
We get outside and he tells me he has Gout. For some reason I do not even fake support, I laugh uncontrollably because for some reason that sounds like something that an 80 yr old would have. They tell him to stop drinking. I laugh some more. I say, “can you still have drugs?” ha ha -he doesn’t see the humor in that because the drugs they gave him are not fun ones apparently and they only HELP the problem not take it away entirely. Oh I am gonna have a grouch on my hands I see. I will have to give him some more of my left over “candy” to keep him happy I see.
Good thing I have a very bad back. I don’t like to take drugs unless I am close to death and I get a ton of ‘em. I now believe that is the main reason he married me.
Sure he says a lot of sweet nothings every day but I said I was slow not stupid folks!!
Poor Old Man – he goes to bed feeling fine and now wakes up with injuries.
.....and being the supportive wife I am - I remind him of this every chance I get.
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