I have committed the unpardonable sin.
I've come down with a terrible case of shingles.
Besides feeling like crap, I am now housebound until I am no longer contagious.
My husband is behaving as if I have set out to destroy him; socially, physically, mentally, professionally.
I just want to crawl off to some dark corner for a few weeks.
I spent last Friday at the doctor's office and the hospital next door having tests run and diagnoses made. After a mind numbing four and a half hours I was sent home to rest for 2-6 weeks with a bottle of antiviral medication and a bottle of pain killers.
I'm thinking I should have Steve take the pain killers.
Our only remaining child at home is 15. He is totally sympathetic, and very helpful around the house. He has his driving permit so he can operate the car. The only driving I have to do is from his school to our house when he has to go to baseball practice.
My hubby, on the other hand, has never come up with more chores for me to do than he has over the last three days.
"Why CAN'T you do an extra load of laundry? You are just laying around reading and watching TV," says he.
"Sweetie, my head is splitting, my rashes itch like heck, my left side feels like someone bayonetted me, and I feel woozy and sick!" I weakly reply.
"Well, how long would it take you to go downstairs and start the washer? Three point seven two minutes at the most!" declares The Hubster.
I lie there wondering why he can't do it himself if it's so easy.
"I have to go outside to see if any of the tarps on my cars might have blown about in the wind just now," states His Royal Highness.
I close my eyes and try not to groan.
*Sigh* I think that I feel too awful to even be annoyed.
Once the front door bangs shut our son pops his head around the doorway from the kitchen, where he is once again trying to prove that the lightbulb in the fridge is for tanning.
"I can do it Mom," says Manlet. At 6'3" he is no longer my Kidlet.
"Would you Sweetheart?" I ask. "That would be so awesome!"
"Yah, I can throw my baseball clothes in with Dad's stuff." We have one smart kiddo here.
Hopefully I will be back to laughing soon. Until then, do you think Steve would notice if I hide under the bed and sleep?
I've come down with a terrible case of shingles.
My husband is behaving as if I have set out to destroy him; socially, physically, mentally, professionally.
I just want to crawl off to some dark corner for a few weeks.
I spent last Friday at the doctor's office and the hospital next door having tests run and diagnoses made. After a mind numbing four and a half hours I was sent home to rest for 2-6 weeks with a bottle of antiviral medication and a bottle of pain killers.
I'm thinking I should have Steve take the pain killers.
Our only remaining child at home is 15. He is totally sympathetic, and very helpful around the house. He has his driving permit so he can operate the car. The only driving I have to do is from his school to our house when he has to go to baseball practice.
My hubby, on the other hand, has never come up with more chores for me to do than he has over the last three days.
"Why CAN'T you do an extra load of laundry? You are just laying around reading and watching TV," says he.
"Sweetie, my head is splitting, my rashes itch like heck, my left side feels like someone bayonetted me, and I feel woozy and sick!" I weakly reply.
"Well, how long would it take you to go downstairs and start the washer? Three point seven two minutes at the most!" declares The Hubster.
I lie there wondering why he can't do it himself if it's so easy.
"I have to go outside to see if any of the tarps on my cars might have blown about in the wind just now," states His Royal Highness.
I close my eyes and try not to groan.
*Sigh* I think that I feel too awful to even be annoyed.
Once the front door bangs shut our son pops his head around the doorway from the kitchen, where he is once again trying to prove that the lightbulb in the fridge is for tanning.
"I can do it Mom," says Manlet. At 6'3" he is no longer my Kidlet.
"Would you Sweetheart?" I ask. "That would be so awesome!"
"Yah, I can throw my baseball clothes in with Dad's stuff." We have one smart kiddo here.
Hopefully I will be back to laughing soon. Until then, do you think Steve would notice if I hide under the bed and sleep?
Yes, he would notice because even though you would be obviously asleep he will come into the room and put the light on and start talking to you as if you were mid conversation and you would know exactly what he is talking about because whatever is in his thoughts must surely be your current thoughts as well. Poor poor you, shingles yuk! Best suggestion, move out with manlet for a month.
ReplyDeleteFunny, i tore my plantar fascia in my foot about 18 months ago and was literally limping all day and sometimes using the back of a chair to get around the house. I was still expected to go do the shopping and housework and work full time. It healed over a period of 9 months with injections. Hubby now has a torn plantar fascia through work and he is getting me to massage his calves everynight and prepare ice packs. He wants to quit his new job because it wont get better if he doesn't, apparently and is swallowing so many pain killers he's stomach is raw. He keeps describing in detail what is hurting and what it feels like. When i say i know what it feels like he just looks at me stunned!. Its different apparently.
Poor you, this is going to be a long long month. Perhaps you should ask him to research shingles for you so that you know how to deal with it. Make it a project for him and in doing so he might read something that will help him to understand.
brilliant idea! he is always ready to research just about anything - thank you, lynda!
Deletewell, that didn't work! steve sent me an app for my phone -"doctor on line" - told me to look it up myself... *sigh*
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