Mr. Darcy

Mr. Darcy in a cleverly edited video...

Flu and Flummery

Caring for the sick is kind, and it can have unexpected rewards.

The other day one of the unfortunate ill in need of care, let's call him Mr. Darcy, came home early from work. He looked at me slack-jawed, clutching his throat.

"I'b sick," he said. "I'b goig straight to bed."

"Okay. I'll bring you some flu medicine," I said, eager to aid in his recovery.

He nodded once and toddled off to bed.

I poured some hot water in a cup and brought it to him on a tray with a box of Nyquil packets and a spoon. I found him sprawled on the bed, holding his stomach.

"I threw up," he said. His normally stiff upper lip trembled ever so slightly.

"Oh, sorry." I set the tray down next to him. "Come on, take your medicine and try to get some sleep."

"Could you brig be some DVDs?"

"Sure," I said, and went to fetch him something short and nonsensical that wouldn't tax his flu-fondued brain.

When I came back he was sitting up in bed, bent over the tray with a rolled up twenty dollar bill on it, sectioning a pile of Nyquil powder into long lines with his library card. He had put on an Amy Winehouse CD.

"What are you doing?"

"By throat hurts too buch to swallow," he said. "I thought I'd try snorting it."

Eyeroll. "I'll get you some honey so you can swallow." At least his library card had seen the light of day for the first time since we moved here four years ago.

When I came back with the honey, he was already asleep. I felt warm and fuzzy. The whole incident took me back to when we were first going out. I set the tray aside and stuffed the twenty in my pocket.

He forgot all of this by morning. He stayed home from work. Instead of waking up alone as usual, I got to curl up against him in bed and listen to him tell me all about his weird flu dreams.

So you see, everything has its up side, and kindness is no exception.

Um, I meant illness, of course.

* The above flummery is fictional mental wandering, and any resemblance to anyone living or historical is entirely coincidental, in spite of the fact that the author has been known to profess the belief that there are no coincidences.