there comes a point in every relationship when you realize that that whole "for better, for worse" thing is for reals.
i think my realization that musicboy loved me truly and magically and amazingly no matter what was yesterday when, despite my being a phlegmball of death mucus and having the woe-is-me misery to go with it, he hugged me tight and told me how grateful he was that i was his wife.
i knew he loved me before, of course, but he has weathered the first time i have gotten well and truly SICK like a champ. when i get sick, i get MISERABLE. i can handle nausea. give me a broken bone and i will suck it up AND go hiking on it two weeks later. give me raging menstrual cramps and i will cringe a bit and maybe ask for a backrub, but overall i suck it up. give me a raging case of something-that's-not-congestion and i will probably handle it well. i may take more naps than usual, i may whine a little (i do whine...it's not a pleasant character trait, but it's there), but i will deal.
what i won't do, though, is sink to the depths of misery that a powerful cold plummets me to. i'm not sure why it is. but i go all internal. i don't really want you to pay attention to me, because i'm gross, but i want sympathy. i don't really want you to do something for me, because i feel guilty, but i don't want to do anything myself. essentially, the spirit is willing but the flesh is SO weak.
(oh. and i'm SUPERoversensitive. that's a new revelation. it could be cold + birth control = CAHRAZY. either way, i've had to seriously monitor my reactions to things. luckily, i just haven't wanted to talk much because of the sick, so i haven't had the chance to go seriously crazy. thank you, sore throat.)
about the time when i think i cannot handle it anymore, that's usually when it begins to get better. but i have about 12-24 hours of pure misery before it turns the tide.
(i believe, i hope, oh my gosh i wish that i am on the upward swing of that. i feel less like i want to die and more like i have hope and want to take a nap.)
it was in that window of pure misery, when all i wanted to do was cry but refused because it would just make MORE snot (sorry, y'all, but it's true...), that musicboy hugged me and told me how much he loved me.
i think we've learned something about each other this week. i've learned that he really doesn't handle me being sick well. i've learned that he feels helpless and that he just wants me to be better. i think that was a revelation to him as well, how much he hates seeing me sick. i think that might be the sweetest thing i've ever seen. it's been an interesting thing to watch, as he has transcended his feelings of helplessness into just asking what he can do and doing everything he can think of. it's what i do, so i understand it.
i've also learned that, unlike many stereotypes to the contrary, musicboy is NOT a baby when it comes to being sick. he handles it like a champ, and if he actually comes home and sleeps or rests because he's sick, it means he has the serious plague. i don't think i realized that until i got what he had, and it knocked me flat. it makes me feel like a little bit of a wimp, but i think he just has a superhuman immune system. i'm glad, because he's going to be a teacher and that's just walking into a petri dish of yuck. but i'm also glad to know this because it will help me to take care of him better.
this soul-sucking virus has also put a shining spotlight on how i deal with illness myself, helping me to understand even more clearly how much i never want musicboy to feel inconvenienced or grossed out by my yuck, but how much i need to get over that because, honestly? we're in it forever.
and i feel like there will be a lot more colds and piles of tissues in our future.
i'm up for it. after this week, i know he is too.
that's incredibly comforting.