Note to self...

Note to self - stop scaring the whoosiewhatsit out of your husband. Seriously.

I know that you don't like doctors. It's nothing personal, it's just the whole doctor thing. You've never really got past the "they'll think I'm faking" phase. Consequently, you can be doubled over in IC pain, clutching your heating pad and a useless bottle of advil, weeping and maintaining through gritted teeth, "It's fine, it's just my bladder."  As idiotic as that was, (chill, friend, I'm the only one allowed to call you an idiot, remember?) it really was just your IC, a miserably painful but oddly benign disease.

Now, you realize of course that Mutant is not benign.  Not only is Mutant malignant, but she is weirdly malignant, going from stage one to stage two in two weeks.  If ever there was a time when it is okay to get compulsively obsessed with the happenings of your body, now would be it. Feel free to err on the side of stupid, woman. Your husband loves you with everything he has, and you need to honor the fact that his love means that he is properly freaked out. And with good reason. He lost the mother of his children, and it was a nightmare for him. You know how scared he is, how scared all of your loved ones are.  Yes, you are scared too.  We're all a freakin' mess of stress hormones over here.

But being afraid is not a reason to stop being kind. So you need to buck up and call the doctor when weird things happen, like yesterday when your blood pressure dropped to 77/50 and you kept having to sit down so you wouldn't pass out. That's just not normal, hun.

Listen, if there ever was a time when it was okay to be a whining, compulsive, "doctor's number on speed dial" pain in the ass kind of person, now is it.

You know, he could just say, "Screw this!" and call the doctor himself. He's not doing that, though.  He's trusting you.  Honor that trust and make the call if you need to.

Still friends? Loveyameanit.