...going half an hour away to the hospital to have the staples removed, only to find the appointment had been rescheduled to next week and the husband forgot to pass along the message, because he has the flu.
Also, sleeping in shifts not because of the usual snorefest, but because you can't be within 20 feet of your spouse because you're post-surgery and all vulnerable to everything under the sun, and he has the flu.
...and he sleeps for-fucking-ever. And you have to sit up somehow while on painkillers that whisper 'sleeeeeeeep' to you in a soothing, sleep-sheep-laden lullabye voice almost 24/7.
And and and you know he probably got the flu from staying over at the hospital with you, sleeping in a chair, so even if it's the manliest man cold ever, you feel totally guilty as hell.
Today is that day my mother felt we were both so damned pathetic she decided she's cooking for the two of us until the weekend's over, we're just that laughably useless that even soup is simply beyond either of us to do anything but order for delivery. (And then argue about who has to limp-shamble downstairs to get the door to get it. Whoever moans the most woefully wins the right to remain on their butt in the chair or in bed.)