I'm sick. Nothing major. Just sick. I'm pretty sure I just have a head cold and a hint of bronchitis from my recent near drowning (more on that later). Even though my symptoms aren't bad; overall, I feel like shish. But the bad word. Yesterday I called in sick and slept all day long. I got nothing done and felt like a lump but I didn't care.
My nice husband came home from a full day of work and his daily exercise (in this case an hour of lap swimming) and took care of his lump. He got dinner. He cleaned the kitchen (not just dishes and stuff...mega cleaned kitchen). I slept. He got me a bunch of juice and a popsicle. He let me whine all night. He was sweet and concerned when I woke up several times thoughout the night (sometimes for pregnancy related bathroom breaks, sometimes because I wasn't breathing so well). He tried to talk me in to not going to work today because I didn't sleep so well (giant belly + hurty hips + stuffy nose + congested lungs + summer time temperatures = crappy sleeping for Jen). He told me not to make him lunch this morning...he conveniently didn't need one today. He is nice to me. Even when I'm so gross. Which I am currently. On so many levels.
I don't like being sick. And all the regular coughing has made my belly hurt in new ways. But I am so lucky to have a nice husband who takes care of his sick lady and lies to me and tells me I'm still pretty even though I feel like death.