There is no way to sugar coat what I have to say, so I'm just going to come right out and say it: My husband Jay is one of the most stubborn people I have ever met!
A few weeks ago he somehow hurt his thumb - well, not really his thumb, but that padded area right there below the thumb. I don't remember exactly what he was doing, but he was in the kitchen when he let out a yell and was doubled over in pain, with his hands clamped together right between his legs. I thought his uh "happy place" got hurt so I asked if he wanted an ice pack, but he said "No, I'll just rub it." Trying to be sympathetic, and yet tactful, I said "Do you really think that's a good idea? I mean, Austin's awake and in the other room. You might want to go into the bathroom, and maybe, uh, lock the door."
I got the look I always get from him. The one that says "Are you really from this planet?"
That's when I he explained he had in fact hurt that area below his thumb.
Fast forward a week and that stubborn man of mine STILL hadn't gone to the doctor. We had rainy days when he couldn't be in the field and did he go then? Noooooooo. Each morning he sat there trying to tie his shoes, and moaning in pain as he tried to do so. Each night as he sat down he cradled his hand and said "tomorrow I'll call the doctor".
Finally, he did call the doctor. I was thrilled to know I wouldn't have to listen to him whine and complain about it any longer. I'm not unsympathetic, but when you refuse to see if there's something wrong and you refuse to do anything for it, then I don't want to listen to you whine about it.
I asked what time his appointment was for that day and he actually said "Well, it's for 11:30, but I'm going to cancel it."
I looked at him. "You're kidding, right?" He explained that he had field work that needed to get done. Mind you, I've watched this man try to tie his shoes and he couldn't without some major wincing going on. I can only imagine how excruciating it must be trying to shift or whatever else he needed to do when working.
But no, why would you want to do anything to help yourself get better. DUH!
So I started my "speech":
"Ok mister. From this point on, I will not help you tie your shoes. I will not help you put your gloves on. I will not give you any sympathy when you moan in pain.
You will not whine, complain, moan, groan, or cry like a little girl. You have had many chances to get this looked at. You have had many chances to get x-rays done. I have bought you supportive wraps and braces and you refuse to wear them (he says they hurt - gee, could that have been another sign that something was wrong?). So from this point on, keep your discomfort to yourself.
If you choose to keep your appointment and go to the doctor, then you will be free to whine and complain once again. Cancel it, and you are on your own Mr. Bucko."
Austin came into the living room and I got him in on the conversation:
"Son. Meet your Father, the future Broccoli man."
Austin cocked his head like one of the dogs will do if you make a high pitched noise, so I explained what I was talking about.
"As you know your dad is hurt. Very hurt. But your dad is also stubborn and is now refusing to go to the doctor. He is forbidden to whine and complain, but that doesn't mean he will improve. No, I'm betting his hand will instead dangle there and end up useless forever. He won't be able to do anything with it. It will be as useless as frequen flier miles is to me.
Time will pass and he will over use his other hand and it will get stress disease (no really, I'm sure that's a real disease). Therefore that hand will be useless as well. He will just stand there, propped up in the corner, like a tree of broccoli."
Austin asked "Why broccoli?"
"Because if he were say a brussel sprout, I wouldn't like him. I looooooove broccoli, so it makes sense to me that he'd be broccoli."
"But mom, if he were a brusssel sprout, we could play with him. He could be our ping pong ball, or I could take him golfing."
"Oh good point. No need for him to be totally useless!"Jay sat there and mumbled something like "fine. I'll go to the doctor". And also something about me needing to get out more, which I chose to ignore.
He did go to the doctor. He had torn some tendons in his hand. And guess what....she gave him a brace to wear. Gee....why didn't I think of that?
*insert eye rolling here*
Good thing I love broccoli!