We all joke about the “man flu” and there is a lot of truth to the stories. When my husband gets a cold, he takes it as a personal insult. How dare his body let him down like that? He groans with every breath and reminds me in five minute increments just how miserable he feels.
The stomach flu, however, is a different story.
I hate the stomach flu, norovirus, vomirrhea, or whatever you choose to call it. Hate is a strong word, but it’s not strong enough for how much I abhor throwing up. My husband, on the other hand, takes it in stride.
These differences were brought home last night when he was suddenly hit with either the flu or food poisoning. He quietly retired early to bed (after kissing me goodnight, yuck!) and took care of “business” for a few hours. Then, he came out for water and announced that he had been doing an impression of Mount Vesuvius.
I went into full-on panic mode.
I am not usually germaphobic, in fact far from it, but I go to ridiculous lengths to avoid the stomach flu. I’ve been known to wear a scarf over my nose and mouth like an old west bad guy to avoid the germs of a sick family member. I turn light switches on and off with my elbow and use the hem of my shirt to open and close cabinet doors. I hide a hand towel for myself so the sickies can’t use it and I flush the toilet with my foot.
So, as I held my breath and rushed in last night to grab my nightgown and head off to the guest room to sleep, my husband muttered, “Oh, brother.” He’s used to my antics by now, but still thinks I’m weird. I spent a sleepless night feeling each twinge in my stomach and wondering if I was getting “it” too.
The next morning, I laid in bed late (less germs). When I finally did open the door, there was a red arrow on the wall pointing towards the kitchen. On the kitchen counter there was a note saying, “I’ve gone to get firewood, text me if you want me to bring you a coffee.”
Firewood?! Who does that after being sick in the night? It takes me another 24 hours just to get over the horror of throwing up!
When he got home, he found me showering in the guest bathroom (again, less germs) and he repeated his usual, “Oh, brother.” I yelled back, “Whatever, Barf Boy!” He went on to announce that he had a bratwurst with cheese for breakfast and was looking forward to pizza out with friends (which I had cancelled the night before because I assume everyone hates the flu as much as I do).
Now, I’m left pondering our differences and wondering how I can be a little more like him. I may handle colds a lot better than he does, but I have a long way to go to catch up with him in handling stomach issues.
Still, I am getting better. I did drink the coffee he brought home … wrapped in a tissue so I won’t get his hand germs.
But, I’m hiding in the guest room to write this while my husband is out stacking firewood.
How about you? Hate the stomach flu? Take it in stride? Tell us your funny stories of trying to avoid it.
Read more of Ann’s contributions to AllMomDoes here.
