Marriage 401, Lecture 622: Misery demands company

This is how sickness works chez nous.

When I get sick, which is almost never, because I get enough rest and eat a fairly healthful diet, although I sometimes get a little too much of the CH group, so my immune system is usually strong enough to fight whatever is always lingering around us - other peoples' germs, waiting for a chance to invade, I throw whatever drugs I have at the problem. Why suffer? is my motto. Yes, I know I will not heal any faster if I take sudafed, but at least I'll be able to breathe while I sleep.

SH, on the other hand, refuses to surrender. He will not fight a cold or a cough with pharmaceuticals. Not him. That's letting the terrorists win.

He also gets sick more frequently than I. I sure can't figure that one out. Isn't staying up until 4 a.m., snacking on Dill Pickle Pringles all night, and then getting up at 9 a.m. a perfectly healthy way to live?

When SH gets sick, everyone is going to suffer. Even if everyone isn't sick.

Here is how the pharmaceutical conversation goes.

Day 1
Me: Would you like some sudafed/cough medicine/anithistimine?

SH: No! You know I don't like taking that stuff.

Day 2, as SH is more miserable

Me: Sudafed/cough medicine/anithistimine?

SH: No!!! Besides, you know sudafed will keep me up.

Day 3, after SH gasped and snored his way through the night

Me: Maybe I should go to Walgreen's and get some kind of nighttime decongestant. Just in case you want it.

SH: No. I'm taking megadoses of garlic. That will heal me. Modern science can do nothing for me. I prefer medieval superstition. [OK, he didn't say any of those words past "garlic," but that's the sense.]

Me: But how about if I just leave the sudafed on the bathroom counter in case you change your mind?

SH: I'm not taking it.

Day 4 and yes I mean day, not night

5:00 a.m. SH awakes. Can't go back to sleep because he can't breathe. I am awake, too.

5:15 a.m. Still awake.

5:30 a.m. Still awake.

5:45 a.m. Still awake

6:00 a.m. Still awake

6:23 a.m. I finally say, "Do you think you might want some sudafed? So you can breathe?"

SH: Maybe.

Me: You don't know where it is, do you?

SH: No.

Me: I have to get it, don't I?

SH: Yes.

I find it. He falls asleep again until 10. I get up at 7.