Thursday night after the ER incident Jeremy and I were bickering.
"You still look terrible. Promise me you won't go to work tomorrow."
"But it's the annual soup making contest," Jeremy protested.
"Seriously? You're going to kill yourself to get to work all over a soup making contest?" I asked incredulously.
He had the gall to look sheepish. I also knew he was stubborn enough to go to work just to submit his soup. Mind you, the man makes good soup, but nothing worth making himself more sick over. But I know this man. I've been married to him for thirteen and a half years, and I know when he gets a bug up his butt, there's no changing his mind.
"Fine. If I take the soup to work for you, will you promise to stay home and make a doctor's appointment?" I asked.
He did settle on this compromise, and set about to making his soup. On Friday, I took the crock pot to his place of employment, and picked up his laptop so he could work from home. The receptionist told me he owed me a dinner. The rest of the company just looked at me if I was crazy. I didn't care. I was willing to do anything to keep him home on Friday. I stopped by his boss' office to let him know I was getting the laptop.
"I had to bargain with him to stay home. I brought his soup in."
"Yeah," his boss said as we laughed, "He was worrying about that on the way to the ER yesterday when I was taking him. Tell him I can do any follow-ups for him, and that he doesn't have to work."
"I'll tell him, but I doubt I'll be able to convince him not to work from home," I said.
When I got home, I found out the doctor wanted to schedule him for a stress test and a few other things. I also discovered his boss called him and told him not to work. Thankfully, he listened to his boss when he wouldn't listen to me. On Sunday, he was still feeling kind of lousy. I tried to talk him into staying home today. He refused. I asked him if it was because he was low on sick days. That's when I found out he has twelve, count them, TWELVE, sick days stored up. Sigh.
His soup didn't win.
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