First it was the dressing gown of doom. I now offer you 'the sigh'

[SweetFemaleAttitude]

So it used to be the shuffling in the dressing gown when your fella was ill. My husband doesn't have the dressing gown, but he does have 'the sigh'. He stands up, he sigh's. He goes the loo...he sighs. Hhhphhhh. He sneezes WACHOOOOOOO. He sighs.

My DD said we need to change his name to sighmon

I may strangle if I hear 'the sigh' once more.

This made me laugh so much 🤣 Thank you! The whole thread is comedy gold.

🤣🤣

I get this one aswell hahaha!!!

‘Seriously, nobody has even been as ill as me, this has to be worse than childbirth’

Men!!

So sorry for your loss floozy (sorry for calling you that!!) But yes agree it's a shame when it's a funny thread meant purely for light-hearted reasons and people have to find the negatives in it.

And can I also add not being able to enter a room without gripping onto the doorframe, standing in the doorway for a few seconds (until someone notices) and having to gear themselves up for entering and making it to the sofa to very slowly and painfully sit down 🙄

anyone have the water bottle with the furry cover. Clutched to the chest and then left for me to empty ?

😂

My DH will do The Sigh then say in a really weak voice something like, 'I'm so sorrry I can't help you make dinner.....' He literally NEVER helps with dinner, putting the kids to bed, etc etc and never gives it a second thought until he's Far Too Ill to raise his weary head.

Thank you for the laughs this morning everyone.

Has nobody mentioned the toddler-like sticky-out tongue when they feebly cough?

Love this. DH isn’t too bad when ill to be fair.
however, his pain threshold is shocking …. he once declared he was “in agony” …. over a small splinter 🤣

Oh he does yawn a lot and say how busy work is when he’s around his mother …. just remembered that!! She gives lots of sympathy …. he’s obv a very important man. I clearly do nothing 🤣

I am currently enduring the sigh and its counterpart,the groan. Every exhalation has to have a groan! These are interspersed with pathetic mutters of " Jesus" or " Oh,I feel terrible" etc etc. We also have the shuffle and holding onto things when walking. I declare a winner.

Write "DNR" on a post it note. Wait until he's asleep. Stick it on his forehead.

My husband gave himself a bad papercut and asked if I'd ever experienced a pain as terrible... as I was holding my newborn 10lb baby... I've never let him live that one down!!

But yet the male species must have a monopoly on sighs. My first day home after a hip replacement, I may have emitted a small sigh as I scraped myself off the bed and staggered to the loo on crutches. I'd also not been able to keep any food down post surgery.

My teenage son asked if I could make less noise (while inflicting his program on me on my bloody tv in my bedroom). Literally someone has cut my bottom, dislocated my hip, cut out my old hip with a hammer and chisel and glued it back together. And I haven't EARNED ONE SMALL F*ING SIGH?

Whereas my son has an excel spreadsheet where he logs all injuries, no matter how minor. This included a small neck crick where he mournfully announced that he regretted "always taking my neck for granted" up to now.

My husband is a doctor and so will never miss work, if he appears properly ill I will say he should call in sick and he’ll do anything to avoid that conversation. So any hint of an illness is suppressed. The main clue are the Lemsip packets. Every other hint is tightly controlled.

I think he’s bloody ridiculous, imagine being in a situation where you’re finally on the mend and then some arse comes near with flu.

Along with the dressing gown, we have the little shuffle and slight stoop. Endless commentary on the most awful night that was endured and reminder of how many days he hasn’t eaten. (Not strictly true, just a lot less than would usually be consumed) Feeble voice calling out.
A full daily list of the ailments given in great detail, to which I pointed out, I did understand exactly how he felt, as I had myself, had the same virus, to which he replied ……… oh, when was that?!

A study by Stanford Medicine shows that sighing physiologically helps combat anxiety and regulate mood. I love a good sigh and a bit of a harumppphhhh.
https://greatergood.berkeley.edu/article/item/afiveeminutebreathinggexerciseforranxietyanddmood?gclid=EAIaIQobChMIiu-9trqEgIVgo5bCh3LGgUiEAAYASAAEgIbhvDD_BwE

My husband does a sort of deep breath in, like when your nose is bunged up, and you have to consciously breathe through your mouth.

But he makes a sort of sound when he inhales; like 'uhh'.
I can't explain it!

He can't just be ill. He has to 'remind' me every 10 minutes. 🙄
I ignore him.

Cba to read a study but I bet actually the sighing and harrumphing doesn’t regulate anxiety and mood so much as inflict anxiety and mood on the person listening to it. Like The Ring.

Apparently taking the temperature rectally is the most accurate. I am being serious! Tell him.

I'm a sigh-er. When I was around 50 my GP remarked its often a symptom of a form of asthma. Inhaler. Solved.

We have a similar saying but usually between me and teen DS and always joking. Any sudden movements above waist height "you could have had my EYE out" *
Any single cough/sneeze/minor ailment "I could have DIED! "

• this saying arose from me telling a story about a very strange suppy teacher I had at school who was worried that girls wearing their hair in a long plait would have someone's eye out. I wear my hair in a long plait quite frequently and AFAIK, have not yet blinded anyone 🤣

Remember when life was good before I was sooooo I'll. SIGH

Isn't that one of the positives of mild, self-resolving illness? Robert Calvert (1945-1988) wrote a poem about it:

Waking this morning
I found I could breathe
Fresh air again.
The protoplasmic swamp
In which I'd sunk
Had disappeared
As suddenly as a bubble.
And I could smell
The scents that had been absent
In the seven days or more of my cold:
When I lay shipwrecked in a flood
Of whale sperm,
And the rhinovirus trumpeted.

With tissues piling up around me,
Like the failed drafts of a fevered poet,
I forgot the smells of food,
And took my meals as coldly
As one swallows pills. And flowers
We're just for looking at.
But now, with my newly hollowed nose,
I go about the house
Unstopping bottles of cologne
And aftershave; sniffing,
Like a connoisseur, the rich bouquet
Of perfumed soap and lavender,
Tins of tobacco, and instant coffee jars.

When a cure
For the common cold is found:
They'll have to invent
Another cure for complacency.