Mystery Man-Illness

My husband (love you honey) is a man-flu kind of guy. A common cold can go through the whole family but only when M has it is it life-threatening. I’m a suck it up, pull yourself together and get on with life kind of person, so when man-flu strikes and M desires some TLC, I usually ask him to phone a friend because there will be no pity party in my house. I wish I could be a nicer wife, one who offers love and compassion in his hour of need, but I just don’t have it in me.

M always played a lot of sport. He came home from football one night complaining that his foot hurt. Being the loving, caring wife I am, I said that if it was serious he wouldn’t be walking on it and asked him to stop carrying on. Turned out he had fractured his foot and needed surgery to correct it.

Epic wife fail number one.

A few years later he was at football again and I was at home, the boys were in bed. My mobile rang, it was M, or his number anyway.  The conversation went like this:
Me: Hello?
M’s phone: Hi Kel it’s Smiddy.
Me: WHAT HAPPENED?

M had dislocated his knee and was taken by ambulance to hospital. Awesome. I had to call Big Bro and ask him to come over and stay with the boys so I could meet M at the hospital. I was annoyed. This injury was an inconvenience. This football was really starting to get on my nerves. It's touch football for christs sake! Can't you RUN without hurting yourself? I later found out that as he lay on the ground with his leg all mangled and the crowd standing around him, his first words were

“I’m going to be in big trouble.”
He hasn’t played any sport since.

Epic wife fail number two.

Last year, while pregnant with A and in the full throes of morning sickness and hormonal tiredness, I woke in the middle of the night to find M crouching next to the bed in pain, the worst he’d ever felt (apparently). I called an ambulance, it was 3am, the boys were sleeping and I was tired, I wanted someone else to deal with it. When the paramedics arrived I was still in bed, M was at the end of the bed writhing in agony. They said that it was kidney stones and I couldn’t help but giggle. They looked mortified at my response. But, come on, here I was, expecting his third child, and he had three kidney stones, rumoured to be as painful as giving birth. Karma at its best if you ask me.

Epic wife fail number three.

So there’s no wonder why M is reluctant to talk to me about his current mystery man-illness, for which he’s been referred to a specialist because the GP’s investigations have failed to find anything wrong with him. I know damn well what’s wrong with him. He doesn’t play sport anymore because of the examples above, his fitness has therefore declined, he’s just turned 30, he still eats like a teenager, he's in a far more active job that he’s used to...

Here’s my diagnosis: My man is getting old!

Let’s hope I’m right or it will be epic wife fail number four.

On this Thankful Thursday with Kate Says Stuff, I am so incredibly thankful that my wonderful husband not only accepts me for the relentless and unsympathetic woman that I am, but that he loves me anyway.