Dont go getting ill, or Ill have to tell you off! messaged my boyfriend (40), when I came down with a fever. Heres what I told him in reply.
Autumn has swept in suddenly, as it usually does. I went to bed feeling perfectly fine. But now, as I wake, it feels as though Ive been run over by a double-decker bus. My whole body aches; my throats on fire, and my head feels ready to split open. The thermometer coolly confirms my worst fears: nearly 39 degrees. I drag myself to the kitchen for a glass of water, and thats when it hits metheres absolutely nothing in. No paracetamol, no lemons, not even a single slice of bread.
I decide to message Adam. Weve been dating for about three months now. On paper, it all looks wonderfuldinners at pubs, walks along the Thames, endless conversations about how important I am to him, and promises that he dreams of looking after me. Adam is forty, forever banging on about how hes a dependable bloke, someone to lean on, a rock. With clumsy fingers, I manage to type out a message:
Hi Adam. I think Ive come down with something. Temperatures nearly 39, I can barely move. I feel really rough…
His reply pops up instantly. I open the chat, hoping for something along the lines of:
Ill be right there, love. Just tell me what you needmedicine, food, whatever you want, Ill bring it.
Instead, I see this:
Come on, love, dont be ill or Ill have to tell you off! :)))
Followed by a sad face emoji.
Fuming with fever and now with irritation, I stare at my phone. Tell me off? Hows that supposed to help? Will the virus suddenly get embarrassed? Will the fever decide its unwelcome? I decide not to snap just yetmaybe hes made a rubbish joke. I send another message:
Adam, Im really not well. Theres nothing in my fridge or medicine cupboard. Could you pop in after work? Please pick up some paracetamol, lemons, and some soup. Ill transfer you the money.
Hes typing for ages. Then:
Lizzie, really cant today. Swamped at work, and I promised the lads Id catch the football with themhavent seen them in ages. Just do what Mum always said: hot tea with honey, under the duvet, sweat it out. Ill check in on you tomorrow, yeah?
At that point, all his supposedly solid as a rock promises crumble to dust. Instead of actual help, he offers advice from the Dark Ages. Instead of care, theres just football. Its obvious he doesnt care that Im lying alone with a high temperature and not a crumb to eat. His main concern is not having his day messed up by my illness. Hes happy with a cheerful, healthy girlfriend for meals out, but a poorly one just doesnt fit into his life plan.
I put my phone down and order a delivery from the pharmacy and supermarket instead. The courier, a complete stranger, turns out to be more attentive and helpful than the man I love. I take my medicine, eat a little, and then pick up my phone again. Time to set things straight.
Adam, dont reschedule the football. And theres really no need to check in tomorrow. Ill get better, but not for you. I need a grown man, not a broken record of daft advice. If you text again, I might just have to tell you off.
And I press Block.
A week later he tries calling from different numbers, sends £1 bank transfers with pleas to unblock him, says Ive overreacted and that he just wanted to cheer me up. I dont reply. Being unwell is the greatest filter. It removes random people from your life far better than any medicine.
Why do some men resort to these ridiculous messages instead of genuine help?
First, theres immaturity and panic. Dont get ill, or Ill tell you off is a defence mechanism. He doesnt know how to deal with someone elses discomfort, so he hides behind jokes. He hasnt got a clue how to look after someone, because hes always played the child, not the adult.
Second, its self-serving. He sees a woman as a source of joy. When that source isnt available, he gets annoyed. The subtext is obvious: Dont cause me hassle with your problems.
And lastly, its a test of empathy. Real closeness isnt proven over fancy dinners, but at the chemists. If a grown man cant grasp that someone with a roaring temperature might need medicine and support, not just emojis, that speaks volumes. I made the right choicedidnt beg for care, paid for it myself, and jettisoned the dead weight.
Have you ever received such cheer up texts? Did they work? Share your stories in the comments.
