Fixing Things
My husband fixes things. He fixes things as his employment (ASE Certified Master Technician, thank you very much!). He fixes things as his hobby. He fixes things around the house. When I’m sick, he endeavors to fix me. He fixes things.
I hate being/feeling weak. I hate feeling weak more than pretty much anything else in the entire world. I think the only thing that I hate more is thinking that someone else thinks I’m weak. Therefore, when I’m sick and/or in pain, I want to curl up in bed and hide until I’m not weak anymore.
Mr. Fixer doesn’t think my method of self-healing is effective. Mr. Fixer thinks that if I’m sick or in pain, there should be something he can do to fix me. If he can’t fix me, he thinks that I should go to the doctor so that the doctor can fix me. But, I don’t like doctors. I don’t like doctors because whenever there’s a doctor around, it means that I’m weak. You can see how this might cause a little friction between the husband and myself.
For the past five or six weeks, I’ve had intermittent pain, swelling and discomfort throughout my right sinus cavity, from nose along the jaw line to my ear and up to my eye. It’s been quite intermittent, occurring once or twice in a day about once every ten days or so.
To me, this means that I am having moments of weakness which must be ignored lest someone else see that I’m not the strong, capable, Wonder Woman-esque person I like to think I am. To Mr. Fixer, this means that I’m hurt and in need of being repaired, ergo he must find a way to fix me.
Well, this last weekend the pain was so severe that it hurt to blink. Mr. Fixer insisted on my seeing a doctor. I was in enough pain that I just didn’t care anymore. It went sort of like this…
Mr. Fixer: “I don’t care how much it costs. You need to go to the doctor and have your face looked at!”
Me: “Do you realize how insulting that sounds?” laugh and pause for breath “Ouch. Okay. I’ll go.”
After four days of high-powered antibiotics and effective over-the-counter pain meds, I ponder whether or not my internal struggle against weakness is really worth it. I mean, really, I could have avoided a full month of intermittent pain and frustration if I’d just been willing to go to the doctor in the first place.
How long will it take for me to get over this prideful need to never be seen as weak? For that matter, is being sick really being weak? For the bulk of my life I’ve considered weakness to be a character flaw. Lord knows that I can’t have any character flaws; not even one. After all, I’m perfect! Always! Honest!!!
***
I’m not saying that Mr. Fixer fixed me, since that would imply that I was broken in the first place, but I will say that in the future I won’t be AS reticent to see the doctor. Maybe.
Until next time…
D. S. Vic
Comments are welcome. Please include Northwest Journal in the subject line of all Email. JD_DSVic at Yahoo.com
Copyright © 2010 D. S. Vic
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