21 April 2012

Shhh...Man Confession

I learned an important lesson last night, and it's forcing me to eat some crow. I learned to always trust me wife's instincts. Sounds simple, doesn't it? Not quite. Here's what happened.

Sweetheart took the kids on a pizza run around 5 o'clock. I was at home enjoying some peace and quiet. Well, my sinus flare had been getting worse. I started to walk into the bathroom and remember passing the kitchen table. Next thing I remember was standing by the table, holding on to the counter, trying to figure out why my hand hurt and what just happened. I had apparently blacked out and in reaching for a chair to brace myself, pinned my hand between the chair and the wall as I went down. That threw me a bit, so I figured the couch would be a good idea. About 30 minutes later, I had almost managed to convince myself nothing had happened when Sweetheart called. The batteries in the garage opener were dead and she needed me to open it up. No problem. I clearly remember walking the few feet to the door from the living room to the garage. That's it. I have no idea how I ended up in the doorway, half into the garage on the floor. That's where I came to five minutes later when I heard Sweetheart come in the front door. That freaked me out.

But, I'm a man. I wasn't going to make a big deal out of it. We ate supper and were relaxing on the couch as Sweetheart kept trying to convince me to go to the ER. Granted, I've never blacked out like that from coughing, and I was a bit shaken. But nope. There's no way I was going to the ER and being poked and prodded by some overworked doctor who would tell me he didn't know why I blacked out but its probably because I'm fat. I have bad memories of ER doctors. And I don't like paying the drastically inflated bills hospitals love to send. We got a bill for almost $800 for Princess to get six stitches!

Nope no ER! I'm fi...
"Honey, Honey!"


Blacked out sitting on the couch next to Sweetheart while we were talking. At this point I figure, okay, maybe I need to go to bed and take some cough medicine. So I head upstairs and Sweetheart gets the kids ready for bed. I text my Sister, the redneck nurse who can always be counted on to tell me I'm making to big a deal about something. Figure she'll tell me to go to bed and I'll be able to get Sweetheart to promise not to call 911. Of course not! She tells me my wife is right and I need to go to the ER quickly.


Ok. So I compromise. That's good, right? I'll go to CareNow. Its urgent care, it's open, let's go. To see the female doctor who politely tells me I'm an idiot for not listening to my wife and I should be at the ER. But, since I was stupid enough to be in her clinic instead, she would do what she could to help with the frequently expressed admonishment that I MUST go to the ER if I blacked out again.
I surrender. I will take my medicine. I will admit, globally, that I was wrong, and my wife was right. As she pointed out (several times), if the situation was reversed, I wouldn't have listened to arguing. I would have just taken her to the ER. But I was stupid, and decided to try to tough it out. I ignored the good advice of my helpmate.

So Sweetheart, please forgive me for not trusting your instincts. And thank you for being such a phenomenal wife.

And thank you to my dear Sis, for reaching out on her vacation to answer calls for advice.