Said Too Much

The pollen has been awful this spring.
I notice it when I am outside weeding or using the leaf blower on the driveway.
My husband is really suffering with his allergies.
The regular, over-the-counter allergy medicine he usually takes is not working.

I had a few suggestions that might work better.
I knew he would not want to rely on the natural, holistic things I take when I need them.
There are times when something stronger is necessary.
This was one of those times.

My husband has a pet name for me at times like this.
It is not a cute name.
In fact, it goes back to a time when he had pneumonia.
I remember it well.

I am going to make a generalization and say that men do not make the best patients.
All those years ago, when he had pneumonia, our children were small.
Our oldest daughter was playing basketball in middle school during that winter.
I had to drive her to and from practice and take the other four children with me.

I remember the day we came home from a basketball game.
I knew that the lights would be off in our house when we got home.
As we pulled into the garage, I did not expect to see my husband’s car.
He was home but not a light was on in our house.

I got inside and tried to hide my concern from the children.
I went upstairs and found my husband asleep.
He had come home early from work, which he never does, and went right to bed.
I got him water but all he wanted to do was sleep.

He slept all that night and all the next day.
He only got up a few times and went right back to bed.
Chicken broth was about all he could handle.
I tried to get as much water into him as I could.

By the third day, I knew he needed to get up and go to the doctor.
Trying to handle this by himself was not working.
He was terribly washed out and had no energy.
It was time for him to get out of bed.

Get up!
Get a shower!
I need to change the sheets!
You need to go to the doctor!

There was not an ounce of sweetness to my words.
I was all business.
There were five children who were concerned about their dad.
I had enough and needed answers.

My husband did what I had asked (ahem…demanded)!
He went to the doctor by himself since he insisted he could go alone.
He came home and told me that he had pneumonia.
The rest had helped him, but it would be another week before he felt better.

When this episode was behind us, he had a new name for me.
I remember when he said it at the dinner table.
I remember the children wanting to giggle but also watching my reaction.
Are you Ok, Dad? Someone asked.

I am fine, thanks to Florence Nightmare, he said.
I probably made a face of some sort.
I heard stifled giggles from the ones who understood his play on words.
The name stuck through the years; I have acted that same way on a few other occasions.

I know my husband is really suffering with his allergies.
I offered to go and get him a nasal spray and something over-the-counter, which is stronger.
I went to a store that has a pharmacy.
The stronger medicine was behind the pharmacy counter.

May I have you license please? The man asked me.
I knew that one ingredient in the stronger medicine is regulated.
My driver’s license had to be scanned.
As he was completing the sale, I talked to him.

My husband is really suffering with his allergies this season, I said.
He is struggling and nothing seems to be working.
I know that this will really help him.
The man looked at me.

The man had a beautiful accent.
I will finish the sale for you, he said, this time.
I looked confused.
Is there a problem? I asked him.

This is for you husband, he said.
This is your license, he continued.
I can only sell this to a person if they are standing in front of me.
You are not him! He added with emphasis, but I will do it this time.

I felt like a school girl who was just reprimanded by the principal.
I simply mentioned how much my husband was suffering this season.
If I had said nothing, it would have been far better.
Florence Nightmare said too much.

Hezekiah received the envoys and showed them all that was in his storehouses—the silver, the gold, the spices and the fine olive oil—his armory and everything found among his treasures. There was nothing in his palace or in all his kingdom that Hezekiah did not show them. Then Isaiah the prophet went to King Hezekiah and asked, “What did those men say, and where did they come from?” “From a distant land,” Hezekiah replied. “They came from Babylon.” The prophet asked, “What did they see in your palace?” “They saw everything in my palace,” Hezekiah said. “There is nothing among my treasures that I did not show them.” Then Isaiah said to Hezekiah, “Hear the word of the Lord: The time will surely come when everything in your palace, and all that your predecessors have stored up until this day, will be carried off to Babylon. Nothing will be left, says the Lord. And some of your descendants, your own flesh and blood who will be born to you, will be taken away, and they will become eunuchs in the palace of the king of Babylon.” “The word of the Lord you have spoken is good,” Hezekiah replied. For he thought, “Will there not be peace and security in my lifetime?”
(2 Kings 20:13-19)

King Hezekiah said too much.
King Hezekiah showed the Babylonian envoys all of his treasures.
The prophet Isaiah told Hezekiah about a time in the near future.
All of those treasures will be carried off to Babylon.

I thought of Hezekiah when I left the pharmacy.
What I considered small talk could have prevented me from getting the allergy medicine.
Lesson learned.
Florence Nightmare, indeed.