Wednesday, December 10, 2008

Death by Renovation

Last night Mark ended up in the Emergency room. He had a sever asthma attack from all the grunge in the carpet we removed from our Townhouse. I think I had vaguely heard of this sort of thing happening, but didn't really take it too seriously. Sort of like when someone says can have too many purses.

It started out like a cold. He twitched and turned and sniffled and kept me up all Monday night. Then having had about 2 hours of sleep he did what every stupid male I know does when they are sick - he got up and went to work. Now, men, I know you are just being, well, men, but no one appreciates that you managed to cart your germy ass into the work place. Wheezing and sputtering through your day, pausing conversations to sneeze repeatedly. This is not manly, it is gross. Sort of like when someone you don't know licks your face. Ewww!

By noon he had emailed me that he was now hacking and coughing like a prize winning smoker. I told him to go home and crawl into bed. At 3:30 he emailed he was actually going to take my advice. Which made me very nervous, so I called. He said he was totally winded and having trouble breathing. So I did what any good wife with a paramedic on speed dial does, I called Craig. Craig told me to send him to the walk-in clinic right away. Of course, I am thinking pneumonia.When I told him to go to the clinic he didn't fight me. Now I was darn right alarmed. No man worth their sadomasochistic salt goes to the clinic when they have Robitussin at hand.

Sure enough the clinic sent him to the emergency to have his lungs x-rayed. By 7pm they had him on a ventalator to try and force his air passages to open. By the time I got there at 9pm he had lots of funky things hooked up to his chest. Now he gets to use an inhaler for the next 6 days. But all that could not dampen the hand-clapping glee in his eyes when he solemnly informed me that the doctor said he isn't allowed to to do any painting at the Townhouse. The machines beeped, he sucked on an inhaler, and he couldn't be more pleased with himself that he had a REAL excuse for why he didn't have to do anymore renovations.

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