For the last 6 months or so, Superman has been dealing with some pretty awful headaches.
The real ones, not me.
After about 3 months of it, I sweetly encouraged him to go see the Doc.
After about a month of sweetness, moving into polite suggestions, moving into plain out and out demanding he see the doc, I just made an appointment, and forced him to go.
Apparently all men hate going to the doctor, including Superman.
Doc prescribed him some meds.
A month later, he went back for a ‘lets see how that medicine worked for you, now fork over your checkbook’ visit.
Doc prescribed something else.
A month later, he went back for a ‘lets see how that medicine worked for you, your checkbook is empty, now hand over a kidney’ visit.
Only this time, I was fed up with the poor man being in pain, tired of being sweet and polite, I went straight to demanding.
I said, “Tell Doc to do blood work.”
So, Superman being the sweetheart that he is, politely asked for blood work.
I was afraid that he had diabetes.
He has high cholesterol.
My fried chicken, meat and potatoes lovin’ Superman has met his Kryptonite.
I will fight this Kryptonite tooth and nail for him.
I will fight it with steamed fish, boneless skinless chicken breast, and fresh veggies.