A sick husband is to be avoided at all costs. That is impractical, of course, no matter how desirable. Why are men such babies? Why do they whine and act as though they have been mysteriously singled out for attack by whatever germ assails them at that moment?
To be fair, my guy is hardly ever sick. But when he is, my main thrust is to get lost as soon as possible and for as long as it takes him to get well. He cannot believe he has a temperature of 99.9 (as if that is near to dying). His main objective is to have me holding his hand, awaiting his beck and call, ready to serve his every whim. I don't do that when he is well, so why should he think I will when he is sick? If he were ill with a serious problem, I would actually be much more solicitous than I appear to be now. A simple cold or flu does not create in me a great compassion. The best I can do is buy orange juice and cough drops.
I do feel sorry for him in one way. Twice recently he was supposed to go to DC to see Georgetown University play basketball, and both times he was prevented from making the trip; first by the weather and now, by illness. I reminded him that since nothing happens without a reason, the fact that he cannot go may be saving his life. He liked that.