OK ... now is truly the time that we separate the men from the boys. Yes, I was sick for a few days. Yes, my wife waited on me hand and foot. I had the life of home made chicken noodle soup. My medicine and tissues were brought to me like I was the Prince of Persia. I had hours of rest and relaxation.
Yet, all of that's over now. It's all a distant memory. I'm better, cured and she's the one now with the horrific cold and the fluid filled chest. I'm the one bringing her cold medicine, tissues and providing the foot rubs. Surely, I'd be the one making her home made chicken noodle soup, if she wasn't a vegetarian. Sadly, Tofu noodle soup just lacks the taste and medicinal qualities... of it's poultry laced cousin.
Oh and don't forget... I'm also the one take care of five horses before I go to work in the morning. I'm handling the hay, the grain, the endless supplements that I need a cheat sheet to dole out, the turn out, the stall cleaning and the sweeping of the barn. Like the Marines, I do (or did) more before 6 am than you do all day. OK ... OK ... make that 9 AM. But, still it's my pay back.
Days like this are the days when I truly realize what a sainted woman this is that I married. She does this everyday, 7 days a week, every freaking day of the year. She only gets breaks when I help her on the weekends and on the off chance we actually go away for a real vacation every couple of years or decades.
She needs more breaks... heck, I did it by myself today. One day and I need a break.
I know what you're thinking. Stop being a baby! You have a horse or two or thirty at your home ... you live this. I feel sorry for you. Yes, you're all saints. You all need vacations ...or at a minimum... get a freaking cold once in a while so you can finally get that break you need.
Gotta go... she needs another tissue.
Showing posts with label sick. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sick. Show all posts
Friday, October 29, 2010
Sunday, October 24, 2010
Sick Today
I'm sick today with a bad cold and some chest congestion. Yesterday, I helped my wife clean stalls through that hacking and wheezing. Today's a different day. Maybe if I stayed quiet yesterday, I wouldn't be seeing the loving light at the end of a long tunnel today.
The guilt maybe the worse part of being sick on a horse farm. My wife cares for the horses all week and only gets of a bit of a break on weekends when I help her with the stalls. Not only does she not get the slight break, she's trying to nurse the prince of wimpyness (that's me) back to health. She's actually on her way to store now to buy stuff to make chicken noodle soup. "You don't have to," I wheezed out through a congested airway to no avail. She ignored me a usual and went anyway.
Who knows? I'm glad I'm not a sick horse.
If I'm sick, I can pretty much tell people where and how I'm ailing (and believe me I don't hold back). For horses, Vets have to be sleuth-like Sherlock Holmeses to deduce the virus or injury crimes by following the clues. Instead of following the money trail, finger prints or trail of broken hearts, they follow by listening to heart, belly and breathing of the sicko horse patients. They'll look at the poop, watch for biting at the sides, do pinch tests, nerve tests, watch for oozing or dozing or pacing or panting.
Vets will do anything, stick their arms up horses butts, stick tubes of concoctions (eye of newt and wolf bane come to mind) down their throats... all in the interest of helping to ease the discomfort of a frequently irate and often ungrateful patient.
We've had horses with colic so bad that it took forty feet of intestine removal and a$6,000 charge. Yes, we have insurance now.
We had horses that could barely stand due to hoof abscesses. It's good for them to walk, the vet would say, but it pained us to watch.
Ooh just thew up in the back of my throat. Yes, it stinks to be sick.
The guilt maybe the worse part of being sick on a horse farm. My wife cares for the horses all week and only gets of a bit of a break on weekends when I help her with the stalls. Not only does she not get the slight break, she's trying to nurse the prince of wimpyness (that's me) back to health. She's actually on her way to store now to buy stuff to make chicken noodle soup. "You don't have to," I wheezed out through a congested airway to no avail. She ignored me a usual and went anyway.
Who knows? I'm glad I'm not a sick horse.
If I'm sick, I can pretty much tell people where and how I'm ailing (and believe me I don't hold back). For horses, Vets have to be sleuth-like Sherlock Holmeses to deduce the virus or injury crimes by following the clues. Instead of following the money trail, finger prints or trail of broken hearts, they follow by listening to heart, belly and breathing of the sicko horse patients. They'll look at the poop, watch for biting at the sides, do pinch tests, nerve tests, watch for oozing or dozing or pacing or panting.
Vets will do anything, stick their arms up horses butts, stick tubes of concoctions (eye of newt and wolf bane come to mind) down their throats... all in the interest of helping to ease the discomfort of a frequently irate and often ungrateful patient.
We've had horses with colic so bad that it took forty feet of intestine removal and a$6,000 charge. Yes, we have insurance now.
We had horses that could barely stand due to hoof abscesses. It's good for them to walk, the vet would say, but it pained us to watch.
Ooh just thew up in the back of my throat. Yes, it stinks to be sick.
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