I’m so congested I can’t breathe, yet my nose is running like the grossest little kid at kindergarten recess. My entire body aches and I'm shivering, surrounded by used tissues and drained mugs of peppermint tea.
Here I am at my finest--totally sick. Not only do I feel gross, but I look even grosser. I’ve been wearing the same pajamas for two days and I’ve barely brushed my teeth or combed my hair. In my fever/drug-induced delirium, I could understand if my guy kept a safe distance from my germs. Sure it wouldn’t exactly be my favorite thing ever, but let’s face it, being sick is a total pain in the ass. I’d probably stay away from him too if he was the stricken one. So naturally, I am almost shocked back to health when I hear stories of guys facing their germ fears and tending to their lil' ill lady.*
In these myths, not only does this guy look past his girl’s crusty appearance, but he steps up to the plate and does whatever he can to make her more comfortable. He is at her every beck and call, which would normally irritate her "I-can-do-it-myself" attitude. But now, in her state of dilapidation, this guy’s surprisingly gentle bedside manner is helping her rest easier than any Sudafed-laced cold medicine could. I’m so impressed, I may start calling him Clara Barton!
She is almost sure that she’s hallucinating, but where did that dry toast and ginger ale come from? Is that a bowl of chicken broth she sees on her table? The remote controls have been positioned within reach perfectly so she can easily navigate between her favorite flicks and television shows. In her haze, she sees him by her bed with a thermometer in hand, her knight in nurses' scrubs. We tip our hats to you, dudes who know how to take care of a sick lady. Your Dr. McDreamy-ness is just what the doctor ordered.
*Note: This has never happened to me and I am seriously hoping that it does in fact happen beyond the legends I’ve heard.