MTM banged it. Totally. I asked him what my repost should be, and he banged it. His head. On the desk. Hard enough to cause a twinge of migraine over my left eye.
Maybe that’s because we spent a large portion of the evening discussing health issues.
He had a stress test on Monday. Because he’s approaching ‘that age’, the one where his father had multiple heart bypass surgery. It wasn’t having a medical test when he has no sign of ill health that caused our discussion. I’m glad to know that he has a less-than-15% chance of having a heart attack in the next five years.
It was spawned by a mindless comment by me. I lay in bed yesterday morning, staring at the concrete ceiling, after a whole night of worry-induced wakefulness over my lack of responsible contribution to our household, and I opened my big, fat trap before I was fully awake.
MTM: I can’t button these cuffs. Maybe that means I’m getting arthritis.
Me: You are a total, utter hypochondriac.
Yeah. Stellar start to a Monday.
Fast-forward to dinner, where I was late because I had been out with my editor, lingered hours without calling, and generated no net financial contribution to our household for the day (though I did edit 3,500 words of my novel-in-progress). MTM gazed at me across the candlelit dinner he prepared, and cycled back to dawn.
MTM: Do you REALLY think I’m a hypochondriac?
I wanted to pick up my steak knife and stab myself in the mouth. Instead, I committed a worse foul than spewing blood at the table.
Me: Of COURSE not. You want to hear hypochondria? I am going to die of congestive heart failure, because BOTH of my grandmothers did, and I think about it EVERY DAY. I run into the table because I can’t see and am convinced that I have MS like my aunt, and I’ll end up stashed away in a nursing home, a burden to you. This is multiplied by the fact that I make no money, because all I am doing is making words that I hope somebody, somewhere, will pay to read if I ever manage to find someone who will make them available.
MTM: Wow. If I said we need more wine, would that make me an alcoholic?