Being sick.

There is a dramatic difference between being sick when you're young, and being sick when you're married.

I started to get sick last Monday. The onslaught was slow, the big symptoms were slow, and the recovery has been, well, excruciating. Finally, a week and a half later, I don't hate every breath I have to fight for, and I'm down to less than a pack a day.. A pack of tissues that is.

When I'm sick, I want attention, chocolate. To rest, but only when I'm ready to. I have to keep busy, but I will be incredibly pitiful too.

Two days ago it started to hit Jon. If you know Jon, you know he doesn't do sick well. Unlike me, he can get fevers, and when he gets them, they're bad. When Jon's sick, he sleeps, shivers, mumbles, eats occasionally, but doesn't need much.

When he sick, I take care of him the best I can. When I'm sick, Jon tries to cater to me. But nights like Thursday night, when we're both sick....who takes care of who?