Old Habits

As soon as I think I've got it all figured out, I turn around and do something stupid.

I have annoying character flaw, and it's something I've been in the habit of doing since I was a kid. Subconsciously I've always been under the impression that whatever the problem, whatever the challenge or concern, if you ignore it long enough, it will eventually go away. Okay, I've gotten more responsible as I've matured, and these situations have come up less and less in my life, but they do still pop up when I'm in my run-away-and-hide moods.

Here was not a situation where I should have been overwhelmed with indecision or fear. This was just one of those days where I simply did not want to deal my own discomfort, irritation and inconvenience.

My arthritis medication had begun to fail me and my doctor gave me a trial of something stronger to test for a week. As I adjusted to the new chemical in my body, I dealt with some lethargy and muscle weakness and cut 3 days out of my exercise routine. At the end of the trial I was to call my doctor to let him know that he could call in the prescription. Unfortunately I couldn't reach him over the weekend (I foolishly forgot to call on Friday), and I suffered through two days of the onset of pain, as well as a slightly depression and moodiness, partly from withdrawal, and partly hormonal.

B'Man had watched me spiral downward this weekend, and had mercifully left me alone to work out the imbalance going on in my body and mind... and then finally had enough. He sat down on the bed Monday morning and gently explained that I needed to move my body, that I had been hanging out in bed way too much, and I needed to get some cardio under my belt. Of course I knew he was right. The longer I hung out in bed, the worse I became. I smiled and agreed with him until he uttered that word that I dread so much.

"Task," he said.

"Task?"

"Task. Take a couple of over the counter pain meds, take your vitamins, have a good breakfast, and get to the gym. You don't have to do your full routine. Even if it's just for a lousy 15 minutes, you need to get out of this house, move your muscles and get your heart pumping. If there's some reason you can't or won't make it to the gym, I want you to contact me and let me know."

I agreed, kissed him, and saw him off to work.

Well, as you can imagine, I didn't make it. I just didn't have the energy of the inclination. And this is where I stumbled in my rationale. I knew that if I called him and told him I wouldn't make it, he was going to encourage me to go, and even insist. I know him. He wanted me to contact him so that he'd have the opportunity to give me a pep talk and explain that he is not giving me a choice. If I just ignore the fact that I needed to communicate with him, he would be forced to drop the subject and try again at a later date.

I spent an hour or so on the computer late that afternoon checking up on my favorite blogs, and surfing around a bit when the Windows IM box opened up. He had seen that I had signed on, and wanted to check in. We chatted for a few minutes, he asked how I was.

I admitted I still hadn't moved. It was a good thing we were on Instant Messenger, I wouldn’t have been able to look him in the eye.

"Did you at least take your vitamins?"

"No."

"Why don't you go do that."

I took my vitamins, informed him that the deed had been done, quickly extracated myself from the conversation and changed my messenger availability to "appear offline."  After all... if I ignore it, it will go away.

That evening when he came home, we had a comfortable evening together. Everything seemed fine. He didn't bring up the fact that I had disobeyed him about my workout and contacting him, and I certainly had no intention of bringing it up. But he did bring up something else I had dropped the ball on.

"Did you call the doctor?"

"Yes," I said immediately without hesitation. "I left a message with his secretary. He's going to call me back." I lied. There's no need to completely bury myself. I can take care of that little detail on Tuesday. He didn't have to know.

Tuesday morning as I lay in the bed, I heard him call me from the living room just before he was about to leave. When I walked in he asked me to sit on the coffee table and face him. I cinched my robe around my collar, and sat nervously biting my lower lip. I recognized the signs, I knew what was coming.

"I know you're having a hard time. That doesn't escape me. But I told you to communicate with me if you weren't going to make it to the gym, and you decided not to. You purposely avoided me, and if I hadn't contacted you, we wouldn't have spoken at all."

I felt the tears welling up in my eyes. Of course he was right, and I had actually thought that I had gotten away with it. I thought he was going to let it slide. After all, I was so pathetic. I felt myself begin to form my puppydog face.

"You can't avoid me whenever you feel like it. It's my job to take care of you, and I can't do that if you won't connect with me when I tell you to."

A tear spilled onto my cheek. Dammit! I hate it when that happens. I wanted to appear strong, stoic, unmoved.

"Let's take care of this right now," he said.

With that he walked around to the kitchen, and I watched as he picked a heavy wooden spoon from the crock on the counter. He came back, picked up a throw pillow and placed it on the arm of the couch and instructed me to place myself over it.  He handed me another pillow for my face and I draped myself across the arm of the couch and waited while he moved my robe out of the way. I felt the sting of the spoon on my sit spot as I fought hard to remain as still and quiet as possible. The smacks were loud and sharp, and I felt myself beginning to breathe hard as I tried to control my cries, but the pain was too much. My sobs came pouring out of me and into the pillow. Those wooden spoons up to this point had been reserved for those little annoying pet peeve swats here and there, but now they were part of the punishment arsenal, and they created a new level of pain that I hadn't expected. It felt as though it went on forever, while in reality it was only about a minute.

When he let me up he wrapped his arms around me and I cried quietly into his clean shirt. "You cannot ignore me," he said. "When I tell you you have to communicate, I need to hear from you. We have to keep in touch about your condition. No more hiding. Understood?"

Okay, I get it.  If I had contacted him I could have made my argument, held my ground and convinced him that I needed more rest. He's not an unreasonable man. But I didn't even give him the chance to let him hear me and discuss it with me. I took that away from him.

I wiped my face and walked him to the door. Before he left, he turned to me and said "Oh, and make sure you talk to your doctor today. Don't lie about it like you did last night."

My mouth flew open. I was about to yell, "I DIDN"T LIE!" but suddenly thought better of it when I saw his face give me the warning look.

How does he know these things?