Sunday, July 7, 2013

He's A Keeper

In November of 2011, about a week after Chris and I had started dating, I woke in the middle of the night to find myself very ill with food poisoning (or stomach flu, or some other type of nasty disease that I always attribute to this cookie:


I proceeded to be ill for the many early hours of the morning. At about 6:00 A.M., I called my boss and told her that there was no way I could work that day. She argued with me saying that I was the only Saturday employee and that no one else was available. To which I replied "Okay, if you don't mind me throwing up everywhere, I'll work for eight hours today by myself. Great idea." (just kidding, I didn't actually say that, but it did cross my mind) After that my boss said that she would work for me in the morning and she would find someone to cover the rest of the day. Thank you!! 

Since Chris and I had only been dating a week, I had no intentions of him seeing me this way (gross, sweaty pajamas, hair up in a tangled/messy bun (and not the cute kind), face incredibly ghost-like and pale, overall sick and disgusting looking, not to mention, running off to the bathroom every fifteen minutes to get rid of every last bite of that cookie). 

However, despite my pleas, he came to visit my apartment anyways. He went straight into my room where I was lying in bed, watching Ella Enchanted (which I watch every time I'm sick), and he came and laid down on top of the covers and pulled me into his arms. He held me while I felt so awful and sick. I was sure he would be disgusted and not want to stay. But he did. He continued to lie beside me as I watched August Rush and other movies that he doesn't particularly like. 

I learned several things from this experience: 
  1. Men love kisses, despite sickness.
  2. Never eat pumpkin chocolate chip cookies.
  3.  My one-week relationship with Chris was already 1,000,000 times better than any other relationship I had been in. 
That day I was texting my best friend Lauren and she told her mom about how Chris was with me when I was sick. Her mom, Debbie, immediately told her to tell me that if he sticks with you in sickness, that boy is a keeper. And she was right. 

...Fast forward to the present... 

Chris, my now dear, sweet husband, woke up the other day with a cold. I immediately went into "wife mode" and gave him medicines (Cold-Eeze, I highly recommend it) and told him to rest and made sure he took the necessary steps to get better. I also told him that if he got me sick, there would be no forgiveness. 

Now Chris is an incredible person. Growing up, I learned quickly that the following is a very accurate portrayal of men with colds: 

My dad always acted as above, as did my brother, and most all my guy friends at school. I have the worst immune system ever and was basically sick every day of high school, but never missed school for illness unless I was throwing up or that one time I had pneumonia. Many of my guy friends from school with miss a day or two for the common cold. (Although, I went to a high school with a rather large group of "rich" kids who lived in a special gated community for rich people. And unfortunately, I'm starting to learn that their dramatization of a cold hasn't improved even now that they're in their 20s...)

My husband Chris, however, does not act as above. In fact, my husband still went fishing and to work (which is incredibly risky seeing as he works with food...) and he carried on basically as normal. What a hero.

Despite my warning, Chris indeed got me sick (because I cannot stress number 1 from above enough). Now his cold lasted about three days. He didn't have a sore throat, he didn't have a terrible whooping cough (not the actually disease, just the cough), he didn't feel overall terrible in every way. But guess what... I do and I'm on day three. But this is all because I have the worst immune system! I'm so angry that Chris got me sick! However...

My husband has remained the same from that first week we were dating. It doesn't matter to him that I'm sick. He will always love me and call me beautiful no matter how I'm feeling about myself. He still holds me and kisses me, and what's more, he genuinely takes care of me. He forces me to take the disgusting medicine. He keeps me warm and safe. He feeds me and gives me what I need. To this day, Debbie was right, he's a keeper. And I love him more than anything in the world. :)

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