For the past two weeks, my Beloved has been Stricken With An Illness. I know not what its name is, only that it causes soreness of throat and coughing and spitting and groaning. And moaning. Immediately upon falling asleep at night, he begins moaning, and making swallowing noises. It’s rather disconcerting, and a bit disgusting. Because I am a good wife, I resist the urge to place a pillow over the source of the moaning and swallowing and instead grind my teeth until they shatter into tiny pieces.
I have also been careful to avoid My Beloved like the plague. I’m just caring that way. I have only once kissed him, in a fit of forgetfulness, and afterwards washed my mouth out with gasoline. I have maintained concern, but from a safe distance. At night I put a pillow, or a small child who might be handy, between us in the bed to absorb any coughing that might come my way. I’m sorry, but My Beloved terrifies me right now.
He went to the doctor (the doctor who resides at My Beloved’s workplace for the specific purpose of ministering to those pod-dwellers who can’t take time out from their endless code-deciphering to visit a real doctor) which is how I knew he must really feel bad. There are multiple scenes in The Adventures of Baron Munchausen in which it is suggested that the Baron might want to see a doctor. His reply is always to hold up a gnarled hand and croak, through clenched teeth, with absolute finality, nooo doctorsssss (the fact that the doctor always transforms into the Angel of Death might have something to do with it).
Make no mistake: my Beloved IS Baron Munchausen. He’s better looking, and doesn’t achieve unbelievable exploits with a band of faithful supermen, but trust me on the one point. The fact that he was willing to take a chance with the Angel of Death doctor proved the virulence of this particular affliction.
The doctor declared that he had A Virus Of Unknown Origin, and promptly prescribed antibiotics, just in case. I questioned My Beloved closely as to whether said doctor was also sporting a water-squirting daisy and a pair of oversized shoes, but he was too feeble to answer. At any rate, he took the antibiotics, just in case. Today he is feeling better.
I, however, woke up this morning to a sore throat, a dull headache, and a perpetual heaviness in my lungs. If you need me, I’ll be hunched over here in the corner, groaning.