Bengali roots and past experiences with ill health have left S with just a touch of hypochondria. I knew this when I married him, and I found it kind of endearing.
But that was before he started stealing my thunder.
I started to notice that when I complained of an ailment, my husband’s automatic reaction would be one of empathy – because he too magically had the same ailment.
For example:
Me: I have a headache.
S: Me too.
Even when S was unable to generate the malaise at the same time as me, he would display his empathy by referring to a past experience with the stated problem. He wanted me to know that he knew exactly how I was feeling.
For example:
Me: I’m having a dizzy spell.
S: Remember when I was having dizzy spells 3 months ago?
Gradually, our mutual afflictions became a subtle contest over who was feeling worse at any given point of time or who was numero uno in the race to voice their complaint.
For example:
Me: My throat hurts.
S: Mine too.
Me: But I said it first!
There are no winners here.
One of the few areas where we could not compete, was the realm of menstruation cramps. This remains the one arena where I dance alone, wielding my exclusively female problem like a fittingly blood-stained sword. At these times, S bows out, ever-gracious in defeat.
Our joint sufferings have even amazed and amused a plethora of family doctors.
We recently visited our ENT because I had been suffering attacks of vertigo.
Me: So doc, I’ve been having these bouts of vertigo. It happened to me the first time last week.
Doc (gazing disinterestedly into my ear): Any other symptoms? Ringing in the ears? Headaches?
Me: No, not really.
Doc: It is a disorder of the inner ear. There is no known cause really, it can happen to anyone.
Shaunak: I had the same feeling you know. Some months ago.
Doc (ignoring this irrelevant chime-in and continuing to address me): You’ll have to be on medication regularly and taper it off over the course of the next few weeks. And it can recur anytime anywhere, so always carry a strip of the medicine with you.
Shaunak (not giving up): But isn’t it strange? That I had the same thing a few months ago?
Doc (drily): It’s not contagious, if that’s what you’re suggesting. You did not give your wife vertigo.
With that, S mercifully lapsed into a somewhat injured silence and I was free to hog the doctor’s attention.
Before we were married, I saw myself and S exploring the world together. Now, with each passing year, I see that this expedition includes the world of myriad illnesses.
Until death parts us. If that.
Red and the City 