The Pro’s and Con’s of Living with Florence Nightingale

There are definitely some real advantages to having a nurse as your significant other.  For example, she’s awesome at diagnosing issues and illnesses and has a strong knowledge of particular non-prescription medications so that she can recommend easy-to-procure pharmaceutical remedies for everything from minor headaches to an upset stomach.  Hell, I’m sure the cure for the Ebola virus could possibly be located in our vast collection of plastic medicine bottles stashed away in the kitchen cupboard.  Before, as a bachelor, I typically followed the tried and true method of taking two pills from whatever happened to be conveniently lying around and curling up in the couch in the fetal position until whatever I was experiencing had passed.  Now all I have to do is sport my best furled bottom lip and look as pathetic as possible and she instinctively flies into action.

She’s also great for ensuring that all our home remedies are within their expiration date and safe; shit I never did when I was on my own.  Seriously, when I first moved in she eliminated, like, 99.9% of everything that was in my medicine chest including a bottle of Dristan from the turn of the century.

So, in many ways, I’m certainly better off and consider myself very fortunate to have made a nurse my permanent life partner – and I mean that in the least-gay sounding way possible.

However, it’s not all rainbows and unicorns.  There are some things that I’ve had to grow accustomed to.  For example, she may not be the absolute best person to go to for immediate sympathy should I ever acquire myself a nasty boo-boo.  Sure she’ll hook me up with whatever medication is required, but anything less than being on a ventilator, with six drips running, my head down and my feet up doesn’t even register on her scale; and you know how we men are when we get sick.  But should HRH so much as sneeze there is an instant flurry of activity including her tenting our entire house to quarantine us off from the rest of the infectious world.  However, if I happen to accidentally severe a limb or something, on a scale of 1 to 10 it would probably register as a minus-9.

Let’s also not forget the near Germanic fascination with poop.  Yes, my girlfriend can diagnose just about anything and assign me an immediate action plan for improvement if I ever forget to flush the toilet.  Likewise, our dinner table conversation will cover everything from bleeding bowels to projectile vomiting to open pus-y sores to vivid stool sample analogies, as well as a whole host of other topics that would gag a maggot; it’s just a normal day for her.  Yet, she still fails to think my farts are funny.  Go figure.

However, this is all well and good, but then I discovered this in our refrigerator yesterday while making my lunch:

Umm…hello?

Me“Umm, honey?”

Her“Yes?”

Me“What’s that?”

Her:  “That’s my 24-hour urine sample.”

My reaction at that precise moment can only be described as having a thousand seizures all at once.  To think that all my precious groceries had been exposed for the past twenty-four hours to this huge ass bucket of urine had my brain spinning.  But after I had finished my heaving and convulsing I decided to press a little further.

Me“Umm, is that, like, healthy?”

Her“Sure, why not?  It has a lid.”

Oh, well then…that’s okay I guess.  It has a lid.  Goodie.

Her“What’s the problem?  It’s contained.”

Surely she jests, right?

Me“Yeah, right.  That’s what they said about Chernobyl and the Love Canal.”

I’m not going to get into the particulars of why she’s collecting and storing her pee, but I’m just going to have to chalk it up as simply one of those nurse-like things.  Sure I never would have considered storing a big bucket of piss in my fridge as a bachelor, but things are infinitely different now and I need to accept that.  This is one more of those telltale road signs…albeit a big, plastic, orange, sloshy one.

God help me.

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6 Comments

  1. Kelly

     /  October 19, 2012

    It’s pee. Get over it ! It’s well contained, and well, it could be ALOT worse !!

    Reply
  2. Thats is a good way to lose weight man. I would never get hungry when i open the door. Think I will try that.

    Reply
  3. Jeff

     /  December 3, 2012

    dude, you’re not going to believe this…my wife’s name is kelly….and she’s a nurse!

    Reply

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