the stranger sex

Me: So why are you using a heating pad on your knee?
DH: It hurts.
Me: Yeah, but you've been using the pad every day for almost a week. Maybe you should call Marcy the Wonder Doc.
DH: I'm going to see the physical therapist on Friday.
Me: Huh? But I thought we couldn't do that without a referral from Marcy.
DH: She gave me a referral last week.
Me: Wait a sec. I thought this only started a few days ago. How long has your knee hurt?!??
DH: A while. Started more'n a month ago.
Me: Why didn't you say anything?
DH: You didn't ask.
Me: [cursing and snorting]
Me:So tell me, darling, how's your elbow.
DH: fine.
Me: Your head? Your neck? Your foot? Your heart? Your stomach? Your liver? Your--
DH: okay, okay.

It could be a response to my not-feeling-well style: broadcasting medical updates every few hours. ("I still have a headache but now my throat isn't hurting.") I think it's more that he's a stoic=silly goof. We have to guess from his thin lips or his occasional sharp inhalation or his wretched nasty mood that he's in pain.

Today I'm glad he doesn't read my blog.


  1. men are so wierd
    good idea to just ask every week or so...

  2. Hey, Kate, you could have the opposite, like I do -- the guy who fills you in on every ache and pain, ad nauseam.

    Wanna trade? ;-)

  3. You're lucky. My DH is a whiner. The slightest ache or twinge and he's ready to call an ambulance. Most men are nothing more than big babies. And speaking of babies, if they had to carry them, the human race would be vanish.


  4. If anyone ever calls me Dougie the Wonder Doc, I'm going to bark.

    (Do you like how I always manage to turn the conversation back to me? It's a talent.)

  5. Well I was going to say that all men are like that, until I read Tanya's comment :)

    Mine's just as bad, but because I actually let him know when something's bothering me, I'm a whinger *sheesh*


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