“Hello, Dennis speaking,” I said, when I answered the phone.
“Mr. Dennis, it’s me – Consuela.”
“Oh, hi, Consuela,” I said. “What did the doctor say about Mario? Is he going to be all right?”
Mario, my sometime yard worker and handyman, had been feeling poorly all week long so his wife, Consuela, had taken him to the doctor.
“The doctor say he want to talk to me by myself about Mario,” she said. “I’m scared. Will you go with me to the doctor’s?”
“Sure.”
“Consuela, your husband shows all of the signs of a man who is under a lot of stress,” the doctor said. “He’s going to need a lot of care.”
“Stress?” Consuela said. “Mario doesn’t do enough of anything to get stressed out about – except maybe about where his next beer is coming from.”
“I know you can’t afford to keep him in the hospital,” the doctor said, “But you’re going to have to care for him at home.”
“What do I have to do?”
“First, he must always be comfortable. Fix him a big, healthy breakfast every morning and his favorite foods for lunch and dinner. No matter how hard he tries, don’t let him do any work around the house.”
“Don’t worry about him working too much around the house,” Consuela said. “That’s not gonna happen.”
“Try to spend at least half an hour every day massaging his back and his feet,” the doctor said. “If he wants to make love do everything you can to accommodate him. You should probably wear your sexiest negligees and underwear when you go to sleep at night.”
“Anything else?” Consuela asked.
“Oh, don’t discuss any problems with him, especially money problems. Stress related illness can be very bad and if you don’t follow these instructions there is a chance that Mario might die.”
When I took Consuela home Mario asked, “What did the doctor say about me?”
Consuela said, “Is very sad, Mario. The doctor say you’re gonna die.”
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