You may remember a post from a while back where hubby was complaining about some knee pain. (If you didn’t read THIS POST go ahead and read it now… I’ll wait.)
Ok, so you now know how stubborn hubby can be, and you may be able to guess that he never did go to see a Doctor. Yes, that post was from June. Yes, that was 4 months ago. And yes, his knee still bothers him. Let’s not debate the obvious… Hubby is a moron. Uhmmm.. perhaps that’s too harsh. Hubby is difficult. No, that’s too soft. Hubby is pain in my arse…… yes, that’s the one. It fits quite nicely.
So, let’s jump to this past week. (No, it’s actually not about his knee…. I’ve given up on that battle).
This past week hubby visited an allergist for the very first time. He went kicking and screaming. He went whining & sulking. He went grumbling and fighting against me as I pulled him by the shirt collar into the office. (ok that last piece may have been a bit of exaggeration since I actually didn’t go with him for his appointment) BUT…. I did do just about everything else to get him to visit the Dr.
I have had seasonal allergies for as long as I can possibly remember. When I was young my allergist simply stated that I was “allergic to NJ” and I should move out of state. What he was actually saying was that I was allergic to almost every type of outdoor allergen/pollen and that living in the “Garden State” was probably not the best thing as I scratched out my eyes and blew my swollen, red nose. So, I consider myself to be a pretty good judge of spotting allergy like symptoms when they are exhibited by my hubby. Long ago I planted my first seed that hubby should visit an allergist. This type of interaction is sort of like a delicate germination process, it requires pristine conditions, constant maintenance, proper levels of coaxing and prodding before you even get the slightest sprout.
Me: “Hubby, I’ve noticed you’re a little stuffed up…”
Hubby: “Uh, huh”
Me: “The pollen count is pretty high today”
Hubby: “Uh, huh”
And, that’s how it began.
I’d been cultivating the idea of getting hubby to visit a Dr. for a while and I felt the time was right to move my little seedling….
Me: “I found a new local allergist, maybe you should think about going”
Hubby: “No way”
Me: “Maybe she could help find out what you’re allergic and then you could breath better”
Hubby: “No way”
Time to change tactics
Me: “I made myself an appointment for the allergist, do you want me to see if she can see you too?”
Hmmmmm….. this wasn’t going well…….
Me: “What exactly is the issue… why won’t you see an allergist?”
Hubby: “Cause she’s gonna want to stab me”
Me: “Stab you??”
Hubby: “Yes, stab me…. and I have no interest in subjecting myself to that sort of torture”
Hubby: “Yep torture….”
So, as my poor little planted idea began to wither away, I decided to take the most drastic measures I could think of to revive it…….
Handing hubby the phone……
Hubby: “What’s this…..?”
Me: “Can you just take it for a second?”
Hubby: reaching out reluctantly… “Huh?”
Me: “Just take the phone …. quick, it’s ringing”
Hubby: “Ringing? Who did you call?” as hubby takes the phone
Me: “I didn’t call anyone…” the other line picks up “You did. You just called the allergist to make an appointment.”
Hubby: “What? Uhm…. Hello?? Yeah, Hi.”
Allergist: “Can I help you?”
Hubby: “Uhm, ahh, I guess I need to make an appointment….. my wife just made me call you”
And that’s how it happened.
So Hubby found himself at the allergist this past week. And, believe it or not, he actually survived. The big baby not only lived through the torture but he also found out he’s so allergic to grass that he qualifies for a study that will pay him. So, he came home all giddy that he’s so “special” that he can earn money from his condition………….And guess what, now he’s all excited to go back…… IMAGINE THAT!
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