It’s Monday and Hub has the flu...
Yes, the flu even gets you in the tropics! Seems fall is the time to get your flu shots even in Mexico. Well, we didn’t get ours yet.
He’s been in bed all morning, moaning about being hot... and then cold...how his head aches...how his feet even hurt.
I, being the ever concerned spouse ask if he wants something to drink?
He asks me if he has a fever. Do I look like a damn nurse????
Not having a thermometer since the ‘kid’ was living at home I touch his forehead to discover he is slightly burning up, so I give him some Tylenol extra strength and leave, telling him I’ll check on him in a few hours.
I return to hear him still moaning and whining. I check his head again...still hot.
Deciding this fever has to break before I do something drastic to him, I go down the 18 stairs and up the 18 stairs returning with a plastic ziplock bag filled with ice. I've wrapped it all in a cloth, and as I’m about to put it on his forehead his eyes flash open like I’m Kathy Bates from Misery!!
‘NOOOOO...my head hurts!’
Using my best Florence Nightengale voice, I lean down so he will hear me and tell him to...‘put it on your forehead or I’ll dump it over you.’ I leave him to moan in peace and I tell him to just call me ‘Flo’.
A few hours later he's standing at the top of the stairs and asking for some cheese and a few crackers.
Okkkkk. No longer Florence Nightengale now I'm a damn waitress. I take the stuff up 18 stairs and put them beside our bed.He’s still got a temperature.
I mention that maybe he should take a cool shower to help lower his fever. (Good thing since cool showers are all we have right now, seems someone didn't change the batteries in the ‘on demand’ hot water tank.)
He takes to our bed again and whines that a nurse would check on him more than I do... (First, let me say I’m not a nurse...never wanted to be AND don’t get paid like a nurse!)
He softly whines that, after all he’s sick...he’s hot...he’s cold...he’s got the shi....
Ewwwwww enough said!!!!! I walk out slamming the door behind me...and go down the 18 stairs.
Tuesday, he makes his way to the livingroom complaining and commenting that I’m definitely not a Florence Nightengale type of caregiver! His fever has obviously broken.
Thursday, I wake up with a cold...not the flu...a cold. I take to our bed and don’t want to see the light of day. Hub comes in every hour to check on me or to ask...’where’s this?’...’Do you want me to put that away?’...’Am I hungry?’...’Do I want something to drink?’...
I cough, turn over and just before pulling the covers over my head I tell him to GET OUT!!!
Just a few thoughts from 2 Canadians living and loving it in Mazatlan!
Linda and Hub.