Bed Bugs November 3, 2007
Posted by kimayars Ramblings
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I’m afraid to go to bed. It’s midnight. I have to feed horses at 6:30am. Yet I can’t bring myself to go upstairs. Why? My husband is sick. It’s a hacking, coughing, snorting, sneezing, phelm-spewing, sinus-infecting nightmare of a cold. His normally falsetto voice sounds more like Barry White. He looks like crap, he feels worse, and I don’t want to get it. Not to mention when he doesn’t sleep well, I don’t sleep well. So I guess my answer is to not sleep at all.
He stayed home today, and the few times I popped in during the day he was so pale I felt the need to check for a pulse. And all I can think is, “Please don’t let me get sick.” I feel a bit guilty.
We have a guest bed, but it’s covered with boxes of Christmas decorations. We don’t really have a couch, and I don’t want to sleep on the floor. Even the dogs don’t want to be near him.
Well, in the spirit of our vows (…in sickness and in health…) I’ll trudge upstairs. Maybe I’ll just face the other direction…
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