I Don't Want To Say It, BUT...(maybe) I TOLD YOU SO...

I would like to say that I'm not the type to say, "I told you so"...but I AM.  However, I DO have enough sense to know WHEN it is safe to say it.  Remember me thinking that Robby had the flu?  OK...so, it was actually the "Man Flu".  Haven't ever heard of that?  Let me explain, then.

The "Man Flu" is a medical condition where a "man" contracts the flu (same flu as everybody else has...), BUT it is MUCH WORSE...why?  Well, of course, because a MAN has it!  You see, I have found that when men get sick there are several things that almost always happens...universally.  First, they are in denial and refuse to take any advice from their spouse; who, by the way has been taking care of not only sick kids for years, but also herself.  So, the conversation between the (sick) husband and wife goes a little like this:

Husband:  "I feel terrible; sort of achy, might even have a fever."
Wife:  "Well, have you taken your temperature?
Husband:  "No, I haven't taken my temperature.  Could you go get me the thermometer?"
Wife:  "OK."

Wife takes husband the thermometer and indeed he does have a low-grade temperature.

Wife:  "Would you like some Advil?"
Husband:  "I guess."

Wife takes husband the Advil and glass of water.

Wife:  "I think you might have the flu.  You need to call the doctor and get some Tamiflu.  If you start taking
           it within the first 24-48 hours, it won't get bad."
Husband:  "I don't have the flu!"
Wife:  "Well, your symptoms sure do seem like it to me."

Wife goes to the store and buys some Theraflu.  Husband acts like a small boy as he holds his breath and shutters as drinking it.  Wife says. " You need to stay home tomorrow and rest."  Husband gets up the next day and goes to work.  When he comes home, he feels a little worse.  Wife asks, "Did you take your medicine this morning?"  Husband says, "No...it tastes terrible."  Hmmm...OK.  Wife says AGAIN, "You really should try to get the doctor to call that Tamiflu in for you...AND stay home tomorrow."  Husband gets up the next morning, actually takes the Theraflu (probably because he is beginning to feel MUCH worse by then), BUT goes to work again.  When he comes home in the evening, he REALLY feels bad and his fever has gone up.  The wife (OK...ME) is thinking, "If you had done like I TOLD YOU TO and gotten your flu shot, you wouldn't even be going through this right now." 

The next morning, the husband gets up and overnight has become a surly bear.  The wife doesn't know this because she has not been sleeping in the same room with him, because although SHE got HER flu shot, she is taking no chances on getting sick.  So, she offers to get the husband some juice or Advil or whatever he might want.  Snapping at her, he insists that she FIND HIM A DOCTOR, so he can see what is wrong with him.  The wife is a little confused, because not only does she KNOW what is wrong with him, she has been telling him for 3 days now what to do.  However, although he refers to her as Nurse Ratched, she makes a call to her doctor and gets him an appointment...sprays the house with more Lysol and gets out of there.  Calling later, the wife inquires about the doctor visit.  The husband informs her that the flu test came back negative, but the doctor said it could be wrong; he thinks he will treat him for the flu...with what?  Tamiflu!  OK...so I still did not say, "I TOLD YOU".  And that's because...well, WHY would you tell a grouchy old surly bear something like that?!  He would definitely growl at you.  He feels so bad now that he actually stays home from work.

The husband starts taking the Tamiflu, but you know it takes a little while for that to start working.  In the meantime...this "man flu" causes MUCH more grouchiness.  Doctor Dave (middle son who is presently in medical school rotations) calls to check on him.  As I listen to their conversation, I notice that the surliness has subsided into childlike whimpering.  Then, he says, "Get on the phone and talk to David."  I get on the phone...but he doesn't hang his end up.  The surliness reappears and we are fussing at each other on the same phone line...in the same room...looking at each other!  How CRAZY is that?!  David (in his newly acquired, soft "doctor voice") instructs me not to raise my voice to dad because he is sick...ugh!  David (and the other boys) are worried about getting him well by Friday.  Why, you may ask?  Oh, did I fail to mention that they all have tickets to the Cotton Bowl in Dallas?  You would have though THAT FACT ALONE would have been incentive enough to listen to the wise advice of his wife.  After a good deal more sniffling, sighing and shuffling through the house, he EVENTUALLY retires to the bedroom...and I to the couch.

The other thing these men do who have the "man flu"?  They don't consider that other people do NOT want to also be infected by their sickness.  Oh yes...they insist on sitting in the same room with all of the well people in the house.  And it might not be so nerve racking if they didn't move from place to place...getting their germs on EVERY surface in the room!  I found myself literally running from couch to chair to counter tops, spraying with the Lysol.  At one point I began to sneeze and almost freaked out, thinking that I might be coming down with something, myself...when I realized that it was merely a combination of the excessive Lysol spraying and Vicks VapoRub that I was putting up my nose.

Well, it is the night before the Cotton Bowl and Robby is feeling better, but not perfect.  He is still taking Tamiflu and I am still spraying Lysol.  The boys have been calling and when I asked if he was still planning on going to the Cotton Bowl, he answered, "Of course!"...After all, he didn't have the flu!  I shake my head in agreement because I know that is true...he had the "Man Flu"!