NO SYMPATHY FOR THE SICK

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My wife had said she had felt kind of crummy for a few days, and I, of course, was my usual sympathetic self.

HER: I really don't feel great.

ME: HEY! Road House is on TNT again tonight!

But then, something tragic happened. I got sick. Once I came down with the illness, it was time for all focus to go towards my recovery. I know that you think that I was just being a big baby.

But you must realize that I was far sicker than my wife ever could have been, because had she reached the level of illness I was suffering through, she would not have been able to walk, much less make idle chatter about her infirmities.

When I told her this, she informed me that it was a good thing I would never have to give birth.

My very severe and debilitating illness started at about 3 a.m. Monday morning. I woke up with a sharp pain in my stomach, as though a very agitated Mike Tyson was trying to escape from inside of me. I woke up and clutched my stomach, trying to find a position that was comfortable. When this failed to wake up my wife, I began a low moan. When she slept through this, I leaned over and nudged her. "Hey," I said. "I'm in a lot of pain here."

She woke up and, to her credit, refrained from smashing a lamp over my head. Instead, she simply said, "I know exactly how you feel." Of course, I still maintain that no one has approached the level of pain I was enduring.

I spent the better part of the day curled up on the couch, clutching my stomach and waiting for my wife to come into the room so that I could moan loudly. My wife suggested that I eat something, as that had made her feel a little less cruddy the day before. I started to remind her that my illness was anywhere from 50-60 times worse than hers, but then saw her face was forming The Look.

I tried to eat something, and, in fact, the pain was abated somewhat. I was starting to feel a little better that evening, although a slight improvement with my severe pain was hardly a scratch in the surface, and certainly not enough to reduce the animated display of just how much pain I was in.

I went to bed that night pretty confident that this would be a one-day deal, and I would be up and at 'em the next day. The pain was still there, but I figured that I had weathered the worst of the storm.

And then 2 a.m. Tuesday came. All of the drama and histrionics from the day before had been a nice stab at sympathy on my part. But they had, for lack of a more printable word, rather annoyed my wife.

Thus, when I woke up this time in what was actual searing, knee-buckling pain, my wife had the reaction of, "Here we go again..."

After a few minutes of moaning and groaning, I decided that I would go into another room so as not to disturb my wife. As I was leaving, she said something that made far more sense that I wanted: "If it hurts that bad, we need to take you to the emergency room."

Well, I don't know about you, but I don't like the emergency room. There are sick people there. And the last time I went, I was admitted. Personally, I find the best way not to get admitted to the hospital is to avoid them altogether.

So for the next five hours, I tried my best to sleep, getting up occasionally to walk around the house, as if I were going to find some miracle cure that had suddenly showed up in our den.

By the time day broke, I called my doctor to get an appointment. My wife, who had gotten just about as much sleep as I did, since I was constantly waking her up by loudly pronouncing, "ARRRGGGG. I'm going to walk around. ARRRRRGGGG."

The doctor upon listening to my stomach with a stethoscope, informed me that I had "some stuff going on" in my stomach. Indeed. He gave me some medicine which, in fact, settled said stuff in a few hours.

And, a few hours later, the pulsating knot in my gut had been reduced to a mild discomfort, which was a welcome change.

I am sure that, in the next few days, I will be completely recovered. I look forward to having this illness behind me. For one thing, I may then have the strength to tell my wife about just how bad I really felt.