My husband is a firm believer in the “tough it out” school of illness and injury. It takes a lot for him to succumb to any form of bodily weakness. He’s used the “just tape it up and it’ll be fine” logic on many an injury. In the 18 years we’ve been together he’s gone to the doctor only a handful of times:
- To have a finger reattached when it was nearly cut off
- Metal shard embedded in eye - he removed it first, waited a day, then decided he might have missed a small piece or two
- To get treatment for an acid burn that wouldn’t heal after a week
I’ve been after him for years to get a checkup. He’s not as indestructible as he likes to think he is and, you know, we’re getting older and all. So, he went to the doctor today.
This scares the hell out of me because what if they find out there is something seriously wrong with him? I mean, he signed a pre-nup that guaranteed me he would not die and leave me with children to raise or an old-age to face alone, but people get out of those pre-nups all the time.
When the phone rang, I was eager to hear that everything was fine.
“So, what did the doctor say?”
“She said I’ve gotten old and I’m gonna die.”
Stunned silence on my part for a moment or two while I wondered if this was his way of breaking the news that something really is terribly wrong with him. But no - nothing is terribly wrong with him except his sense of humor. Clearly it is broken.
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