Well, it finally happened. She’s sick. After 2 weeks of hearing about how she had ‘something in her system’, my wife is officially, undeniably sick. There was a significant amount of proactive warning. 
There was talk of sore glands, and a sore throat, and some coughing, all accompanied by “something brewing’ in her system. She has a cold.
As a result of this untimely illness, I have been doing a lot of work around the house while she lays in bed, and reminds me regularly, that she is sick. She has been like this for as long as I have known her, warnings of impending illness, and then sick. There is fluid coming out of her nose, and her eyes. I have no idea where all of this liquid is originating from, but it is scary as all hell. I used to think that she was hypochondriacal, I mean who knows 2 weeks in advance that they are about 
to get sick? When I once suggested it, she claimed that I was just an ass. And so, I find myself completing numerous chores on my own, while she rests, and recuperates.
“I don’t feel good.”, she tells me.
“What’s wrong?”, I ask.
“I’m sick.”, she replies.
“I know. Do you want me to do anything to make you feel better?”
“Take care of me.”, she says. “I’m sick.”
I wish I knew what she wanted me to do. I offer tea, and she declines. I offer to make her soup, she doesn’t want any. I offer to give her a sponge bath, and she tells me to put my pants back on. There is just no pleasing this woman when she is sick. So, I take her temperature, get her tissue, and sit beside her and rub her back or the top of her head, gently stroking her hair.
“How are you feeling?”, she asks me.
“I’m okay”, I tell her.
“You don’t sound okay,”, she responds.
“I’m just a little tired.”, I say. “And how are you doing?”
“Well”, she says, “I’m sick.”
“I know,”, I tell her, rubbing her back.
I really don’t know how she gets sick so often. I suspect that viruses seek her out, like bees to pollen, skipping over the rest of us, and attacking her with a vengeance. The saddest part of it all, is in taking care of her I inevitably get sick. I can never let her know though, as I have always professed my immunity to all things viral. I would never hear the end of it.
And so, I go about my day, and continue to take care of her, even though my throat is killing me, and I think I may have a fever.
My World Is A Wonderfully Weird Place 