Friday, July 20, 2012

Thinking About What's Important

I stepped in poison ivy yesterday, and now I have a skull-shaped red patch on my instep.  I really think Judy could have been more sympathetic, but she just looked and uttered a flat, "Oh."  Then - - nothing.

How hard would it have been to expand a bit, like "Ooo, that looks sore.  Does it hurt much?'

But no, she just moved her attention back to The Girl Who Played With Fire.  The sore patch on my foot may as well have been just some awkward birthmark as this annoying, itching skull of pain.  I mean, I love her dearly, but she can be so oblivious to the suffering of others.

Not all others, actually, just mine.  I mean she was horrified that time the cat stepped on a rat trap in the stupid neighbor's yard and got its right front paw fairly mashed.  And another time a hummingbird slammed into our picture window (as least insofar as a hummingbird can be said to slam into anything) and she ran out and quickly nursed it back to health.  But for my poison ivy - - nothing.

I have put off saying anything to her, thinking that perhaps her lack of empathy -- or sympathy (I get those concepts confused) -- may be the result of a defect in her upbringing, or maybe something the nuns said to her in grammar school.

I think if Judy ever gets out of that hospital bed, I'm going to have a talk with her.  She is likely using her little diabetes attack as an excuse for  focusing on herself rather than those unfortunate ivy-poisoned souls around her.  Why else would she get woozy like that in the middle of my vacation?  The ambulance ride alone consumed a good part of my day.  And you know what I think of hospital cafeteria food.

It's not like this is anything serious: the doctor says she'll be fine in a day or two once they balance her medications.  But that's no reason for her to be so cheerful in the presence of real suffering.  My poison ivy skull is going to be there long after she's up and around.

Maybe I'll buy myself a get-well card.  That'll show her.

Newt       

12 comments:

  1. Men are such babies. Good thoughts for Judy...

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  2. Like you really thought you were going to get my sympathy?

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    1. Newt is taking a well earned vacation this week. Filling in for him is noted sympathy pundit Rama Lama, the older and wiser brother of the Dalai Lama, who states:

      Sympathy for the plague-begotten sufferings of man is the essence of civilized culture. This phenomenon has not yet been observed in women. So there.

      (Signed)

      Rama Lama, DD*

      * Ding Dong

      Newt will return next week from his well-earned frolic in the north country.

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  3. Men are wimps when it comes to being even slightly uncomfortable.

    As for your poison ivy, go out and buy some Vetrolin. It comes in liquid form and can be purchased in any store that sells horse stuff. Rub a little on your boo-boo and it'll clear up in an hour.

    Blessings to Judy. Hope she's doing well.

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    1. Newt remains on vacation this week. His reply has been outsourced to Rama Lama, DD, who states:

      Your messages may have been grabbled in transmission.* We understand that Newt is to rub horse pucky on his "boo-boo." In my country, the boo-boo is not mentioned in polite company. In common discourse, this part of the anatomy is always shortened to "BB" out of respect for the sanctity of the BB itself. So I have advised Newt to rub HP on his BB. Also, Judy is quite well indeed, but we will rub HP on her BB also, just to be sure.

      (Signed)

      Rama Lama, DD

      * "Grabbled" in my country is like "garbled," but much, much worse. RL, DD.

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  4. I feel your pain Newt. Why I remember the time when right in the middle of giving birth to our first child my wife squeezed my hand so hard she bruised my knuckle. I had trouble opening beer bottles for a week …and did I get an apology? Well I think you know the answer to that one my friend. But luckily we’re the stronger sex, so we’re fully equipped to deal with these types of injuries. That’s right if the women folk are too weak to feel sorry for us, we’re damn well able to buck up and feel sorry for ourselves!

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    1. Damn right. They call themselves "the fairer sex," but we know better.

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  5. Hey there, Rama Lama. Ya got the DD right. I believe it stands for ding dong.

    As for you Mr. Randy, it's all about opening beer bottles with our teeth for you guys while giving birth to your children.

    So there!

    We're not fairer, we're cuter.

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    1. At last, something we can all agree on.

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  6. So, Ev, have you tried the Vetrolin for your poison ivy? It works great!

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    1. Nah, we're MEN, here. We don't need no steenking horse liniment. All I did is read Randy's diatribe and I laughed so hard the rash went away on its own.

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