also when his neck hurts, it's the equivalent of someone else having pneumonia
Sheparded by my loving commentary and rising levels of freaked-outness Z sought Actual Medical Attention (thus sorrowfully breaking a 15 year streak of not going to the doctor) and went away with antibiotics (which in true style, he has been incredibly absentminded about taking; thankfully my analness on this subject helped counterbalance).
Hence began a week-long monitoring of the state of The Lump (mine) and shrieking 'Don't Touch It! (also me) and complaining about how much The Lump hurts (him) and how inconveniently placed it is (more Z) and reminscing about gory medical details from his past (Z again).
Finally yesterday all the stuff that had been accumulating in The Lump came out, and I made up for all the dirty dishes I like to lovingly leave scattered around the house by tending it and cleaning it and batting perfume out of Z's hand to apply antiseptic cream instead and the Vanquishment of The Lump has been a triumph all around.
And when we woke this morning to rain and wet kittens and sweet communal snuggling, I was all 'Oh God bloated stomach, Oh God pelvic pain, woe is me' and Z was all 'I feel so good it's like angels are singing, and I dreamt I was flying all over the world, Lalala I don't have a Lump anymore and lalalala I couldn't be happier about anything.'
N: I'm glad you feel good.
Z: tenderly patting my stomach Don't worry when you get rid of your lump you will feel good too.
N: No I won't. I'll probably feel irrational and hormonal.
Z: But I meant the actual labour. Sure, you're going to be in a lot of pain and pressure and discomfort. But you know, afterwards, when it comes out, you're going to be so blissful it will be like ecstasy. I know of what I speak due to my recent experience of The Lump. I had it, and it hurt and it was uncomfortable, and then there was that whole gross process of getting rid of it, and now I feel fantastic. You'll see, it will be like that for you in childbirth.
N: Love of my life, if you recite your harrowing Lump experience to me as a point of empathy while I am in labour, I swear I will dismember you.
Hence began a week-long monitoring of the state of The Lump (mine) and shrieking 'Don't Touch It! (also me) and complaining about how much The Lump hurts (him) and how inconveniently placed it is (more Z) and reminscing about gory medical details from his past (Z again).
Finally yesterday all the stuff that had been accumulating in The Lump came out, and I made up for all the dirty dishes I like to lovingly leave scattered around the house by tending it and cleaning it and batting perfume out of Z's hand to apply antiseptic cream instead and the Vanquishment of The Lump has been a triumph all around.
And when we woke this morning to rain and wet kittens and sweet communal snuggling, I was all 'Oh God bloated stomach, Oh God pelvic pain, woe is me' and Z was all 'I feel so good it's like angels are singing, and I dreamt I was flying all over the world, Lalala I don't have a Lump anymore and lalalala I couldn't be happier about anything.'
N: I'm glad you feel good.
Z: tenderly patting my stomach Don't worry when you get rid of your lump you will feel good too.
N: No I won't. I'll probably feel irrational and hormonal.
Z: But I meant the actual labour. Sure, you're going to be in a lot of pain and pressure and discomfort. But you know, afterwards, when it comes out, you're going to be so blissful it will be like ecstasy. I know of what I speak due to my recent experience of The Lump. I had it, and it hurt and it was uncomfortable, and then there was that whole gross process of getting rid of it, and now I feel fantastic. You'll see, it will be like that for you in childbirth.
N: Love of my life, if you recite your harrowing Lump experience to me as a point of empathy while I am in labour, I swear I will dismember you.