In full disclosure, this is a story that is not flattering
or pointed in my favor at all. Yet, I feel that it is a tale (tail) that should
be told…at least before my husband tells it.
I have had the unfortunate problem of breaking into hives on
occasion. When I was young we didn’t always know the cause but in later years
we realized that it often occurred when I had an infection that wasn’t treated
completely. Most of the symptoms would be gone but then a few days later I
would wake to hives. They are not fun, in case, you were thinking they were.
The hives stick around until the infection is treated. Not really a big deal
just very annoying. I had a little bout of stomach issues last week and so took
the appropriate meds and felt like I was on the mend. Then I woke to the hives
and took stock and remembered I’ve had some sinus issues that I have been
ignoring and I probably had a little sinus infection. No big deal. But the
hives…
Michael loaded me in the car and off to the doctor we went.
We have a good doctor here who has been wonderful. He has truly saved our kid’s
lives and has kept us healthy. He was also a Tennessean for many years…so we
are connected. Totally.
We get to the office, I put my name in. My husband spends
the next 15 minutes haggling for what price we are going to pay on our bill. Yes,
he bargained my doctor bill. I realized then, it was not going to be the best visit.
After three hours of waiting I go to see the nurses. After a lengthy explanation
on the past two weeks and a good showing of the hives that covered most of my
body, I see the nurse write down diarrhea and fever on my chart. These are two
symptoms that I really hadn’t put much emphasis on because they really weren’t relevant
to our current situation, but ok.
After another 30 minute wait a technichain comes out putting
on her gloves and tells me to come for my malaria test. I am pretty confused at
this point because…well, I have no malaria symptoms. But she says the doctor
refuses to see me without. Now, maybe it was the waiting, or maybe me skipping
lunch, I have a hunch it revolved mostly around the incesently itchy marks and
that little heat problem we have over here. But I went crazy white lady. I
refused the test I marched out and told my husband he better choose the right
team, here. He followed me out and said those words I most hate to hear, “Now,
Rachel…”AHHHHH! I then fish in his pocket pull out the key and promptly lock
myself in the car and tell him to get our fee back. This was not one of my
better moments as a wife, a missionary, an adult. But it’s were I was and unfortunately,
it was not one of my worst moments of this day.
My long suffering husband goes back into the office, gets
his hard haggled money back and joins me in the vehicle. I was a bit embarrassed
at this point and say, “I’m sorry, they were just listening to the doctor weren’t
they.” He smiles and says, “No, he’s been out to lunch for the last couple of
hours.” So maybe my fit wasn’t justified, but come on!
I know what my doc in the states would prescribe so we head
down to our pharmacy and I write a list of all we will need. Sure enough I could
get everything I needed and our pharmacist is one of the nicest guys on the
planet. We head home with the meds that will cure all that ails me and a smile
on this nutty woman’s face.
We walk in the door and I ask Michael if he would mind
giving me the injection that will jump start the end to these hives. We have
both had to learn a few things since
coming here about medicine, and injections is one of those things, so I knew he
could do it. But…a strange thing happened when I asked Mike about the shot. He
got this crazy smile on his face and a gleam of anticipation that I haven’t
seen…well we’ve been married a long time. Then it occurs to me what a royal
pain in the butt I have been all day and I understand something, first my
husband is really looking forward to stabbing me with a needle and second, he
is my only option. Oh no. We go into the kitchen and I prepare the syringe and
I keep hearing him tell the girls how he is going to stand back and shoot the
thing just like a dart then he can do a quick spin kick to push in the
depressor. I’m not a fan of shots, especially not the one that may be
administerd in a questionable fashion, plus, have you spent time with my
husband? Do you trust him with a needle and your behind?
I make my way to the bedroom and lie across our bed, my safe
place, my refuge, but now it is just an ugly place of torture. Sweat is
litteraly running down my back and I may have swallowed my tongue. My husband
walks in the room and I bare the royal behind so the mark can be made. He makes
contact with the spot about to take the hit and I turn to look at his face and
he is smiling!! Like Jack Nicholson in that movie with the kid. You know, “red
rum red rum.” And then an even stranger thing happens I roll over and grab his
hand and start screaming. I am literally fighting my husband. What is
happening?? I keep saying, no this is a bad idea. Stop! He continues to laugh
and I continue to insist we stop the madness. Then he pulls the ultimate below
the belt (no pun intended). He turns and yells, “Hey kids, come hold mom’s arms
so I can give mom a shot.” What? The man has called in the calvary! Of course
Anna is the first to enter the room with a smile that looks vaguely like the
one her father is wearing. This is getting very real very fast. The rest of the
crew follows. A decision has to be made at this point. I will have to take all
of my children to the doctor again sometime in the future and I will probably
find myself in a similar situation to the one I am in now. When this happens,
what do I want their response to be? I turn around like a good girl at this
point. Of course, not without a quick, “You better not be smiling, Ropiecki.” I
turn my head to the side and look at my children lined up in a row at the foot
of my bed seeing this all unfold.
My husband proceeds to inject me with what feels like hot
boiling lava all while surpressing a giggle and my kids all laugh and point and
say, “I see mom’s butt.” I revised my parenting plan this morning. I then doped
myself properly and slept for the next two hours both because I was very itchy
and because I couldn’t face the shame…
Lessons learned, um, no. Butt hurts, um, yes. But I do think
I made my husband’s day.
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