Sick blogging

Why is it that women feel every time one of us men fall ill we revert back to a infantile state of being. That we're no longer capable of taking care of ourselves, that we have to be catered too and require being spoken to in a tone of voice resembling that of a mother speaking softly too a newborn.

Yet while adhering to the ladies' Florence Nightingale complex, instead of going to the intensive care unit where we rightfully belong, if we mention, in passing, that we aren't feeling so hot we suddenly transform into the world's biggest candy ass. It's as if a woman's ability to give birth to a teeny tiny little baby entitles them to kick us while we're down; the birth giving process often being one in which the lady’s every whim is attended to while they comfortably recline on a bed with foot rests, waiting for the doctor (often a man) to come in and help them through a natural process they can’t get through on their own.

Now you're probably wondering what's brought all of this to light. This weekend I was stricken by an illness, once so severe that my mere survival of said illness is a testament to my deity-like status. Yet while I was battling this viral infection, fading in and out of consciousness, struggling to stay in this world, the missus chose to kick me while I was down. Oft referring to me as whinny and saying she's carrying one baby she doesn't need another to take care of.

As I battled this viral infection, locked in a life or death struggle for the ages to remember, the missus gleefully went about her way. There I was laying in what could have quiet possibly been my deathbed, running a fevered temperature of 99.2 degrees, as she was gallivanting about the city running errands and carrying on as if everything were normal. Why is it that women, who expect the world to come to a screeching halt when during the brief time they give birth to a child, are unable to express compassion for those who shelter and protect them on a daily basis and instead turn to mockery to deal with what they know must be a serious illness as well?

All we men are asking for is a bit of equality, yet we're repeatedly kicked in the ‘nads for asking for a bit of help when we're down.

Posted by phineas g. at 11:58 AM on October 31, 2005 | TrackBack

99.2??? Holy Mother of God! And you're still alive to blog about it...

Yes, phin, you are the man... a lesser man would definitely be getting buried.

My sympathy, bro.

Posted by: That 1 Guy at October 31, 2005 12:55 PM

"Why is it that women, who expect the world to come to a screeching halt when during the brief time they give birth to a child....."

Dude. You ARE a masochist, aren't you?

Posted by: Sadie at October 31, 2005 01:11 PM

You like a frosty bedroom and the feel of daggers don'tcha? LOLLLL

Posted by: Margi at October 31, 2005 02:13 PM

Do you have some sort of death wish, Phin?

Posted by: Dave at October 31, 2005 02:16 PM

Well, phin is interposed between two sharks in the header, so........

A woman's scorned is easily seduced by flowers. Oh, and diamonds.

Posted by: William Teach at October 31, 2005 03:59 PM

Is she currently carrying a child? 'Cause if so man, you have bigger cojones than I, sir.

I do agree that women think we are wusses, giving us the old "I pushed something the size of a watermelon between my legs, you think this is bad?". Next time she has the flu hassle her as much as possible.

Posted by: Oorgo at October 31, 2005 04:50 PM

Is she currently carrying a child?

Yep. They call him "Whosit," but I prefer to think of him as "Confederate Nephew."

Posted by: Confederate Yankee at November 1, 2005 12:40 AM

99.2? Uh, ok, yeah, you poor baby! You were so sick! Not. ;)

Posted by: Theresa at November 1, 2005 10:16 AM

I cannot believe that you were able to string together a coherent sentence, not to mention a fabulous post, while laboring under such trying and difficult circumstances. I admire your courage.

You know, Phin, if you need a kidney, or something . . .

Posted by: RP at November 1, 2005 11:08 AM