Desperate times call for desperate measures

I texted my wife yesterday, telling her that I was beginning to feel ill.

I cannot afford to be sick at this particular moment in time. 

Elysha has been ordered on 24-hour bed rest until she delivers our second child in about two weeks. This has left me changing every diaper, preparing every meal, washing every dish and picking up every toy.  

I have a new and profound appreciation for the challenges of the single parent. 

Add to this the three hours I spent in the emergency room at the vet’s office two nights ago with my dog, who had scratched a hot spot on her belly to the point that it would not stop bleeding. She is currently on three medications for her infected wound, in addition to two eye medications for dry eye and two ear mediations for an ear infection.

I spend at least 45 minutes every morning getting her walked, fully medicated and fed.  

Add to this Clara’s runny nose and cough and everyone in the house is sick.

I really can’t afford to be sick.

Well aware of this, Elysha sent me the following texts in response to the news that I might be getting sick:

Uhg honey! Will it out!

And then a minute later:

Reject it!

The belief that a person can simply reject an illness is one that I have held for a very long time, but until now, Elysha has scoffed at the notion, urging me to stay home when I am sick rather than going to the gym or for a run.

Desperation, it would appear, has brought her over to my way of thinking.