Wednesday, October 5, 2011
Rambles about wasps....and stings....and hypochondriacs...
So if you know my hubs at all... Or if you have ever heard me talk about him you would know he can be a wee bit of a hypochondriac.
I mean his grandma can come to visit and then come down with shingles a week later and his mom has to secretly call me to tell me.
You see, if he were to find out she had broke out with a case of the shingles then he would start itching and would have "mysterious" red welts, and he'd be surfing webMD.com and any other valuable source of information that can indeed confirm to him that he too, although he wasn't even home when she visited has come down with a case of shingles.
Every headache could mean it's a grapefruit size tumor growing in his head, any sting of pain on the right side could be his appendix about to burst, he stubs his toe and he's certain it's broken and will need plates and screws in order for it to fully operate as a normal toe again.
I mean don't get me wrong, I'm sympathetic and all. I mean I am, er, I was at one time a nurse. I am used to carrying for the sick and wounded.
Ok, really, I'm not.
I can't lie to you...I was a baby nurse. A well baby nurse. It was the best kind of patient. They couldn't talk, they had at least a dozen people there that REALLY wanted to care for them and they always left the hospital in 24-72 hours. It was the only reason I went into nursing.
So anyway...the hubby decided the night before last he was going to go spray some sort of insect repellent into the wasp nests outside our house. We have several. Something about living out here in the country really draws the bugs to us. I might need to reevaluate this country livin'.
So I tell him he better be careful and he better cover-up...and most importantly hurry up AND DON'T GET STUNG. I had a full night of TV before me...DWTS and Castle... I couldn't be interrupted if he were to get stung.
You see, rewind to a few summers ago and hubs decides to FINALLY take the plastic off the outside of our basement windows. Yes, it had been there since we moved in the house, but you know we don't exactly move quickly around here.
Anyhoo, I wasn't home, he was home with the kids and he goes out to rip the plastic off the windows...well apparently the wasps didn't want us messing with that plastic...and the hubs gets a few stings in the head.
So I'm driving along on my way home chatting up my mom on the cellphone and he beeps in. I tell her to hold on and I click over...he says, "ya gotta come home right now, I've been stung".
I tell him I'm on my way.
So I click back over to my mom and tell her he is totally exaggerating and he says I have to come home RIGHT AWAY. Well, I am not a few more minutes down the road and he calls AGAIN. I tell my mom to hold on, I think I may or may not have said, "please hold, the hypochondriac is buzzing in again".
He asks where I am, I tell him I'm three minutes closer than I was three minutes ago when he called.
He sounds desperate.
So I say go to the ER, I'll be home in two minutes, put the kids in front of the TV, they'll be fine.
So I click BACK over to Mom and I tell her I guess I better hustle home, hubs is about to have a panic attack over a couple bee stings.
I pass the hubs at the front of the neighborhood and I have to admit he does look a little pasty. Perhaps a little puffy too.
Wellllll, wouldn't you know I get a call from the ER doc about 30 minutes later that says to come up there, the hubs is going to be fine but he'll need a ride home. When I get there they tell me how his B/P dropped and how he had a severe allergic reaction. They also told him he should NOT have driven himself.
So now the hubs has an epi pen. I told him he better stay in line. I am a nurse. I know how to use that thing.
Oh, and the other night he chickened out. Something about it being dusk and the wasps were all back in the nest. Didn't want to take any chances.
Well, it's a good thing, cause Momma had some TV she wanted to watch. I can't be bothered by driving you to the ER because you stirred up the wasp nest.
Thank you for reading this far.
I'm at an all time low telling ya'll about a story from 3 years ago.
I blame it on the Nyquil.
And the fact I can only breathe out one nostril.
And that I had to go back to the dentist today.
And that I went to the endodontist yesterday (with no happy pill).
Ok, I'll stop now. I sound like him.
May the peace of Nyquil wash over me now...