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" When I&amp;amp;#8217;m ill, I drink whiskey. More specifically, a hot toddy, otherwise known as &amp;amp;#8220;Irish Nyquil.&amp;amp;#8221; My beloved local bartender from North Ireland taught me her old family recipe&amp;amp;#8212;just hot water, a couple jiggers of whiskey, and lemon wedges studded with cloves. One of those, spicy Kung Pao chicken, and bed. I behave like a dying animal when I&amp;amp;#8217;m sick. I like to suffer alone, in the dark. I hate to be fussed over. Can&amp;amp;#8217;t you see I&amp;amp;#8217;m in mortal combat with the sniffles?! This frustrates my girlfriend because she sees it as unfair. Well, life is unfair, Toots. When I fall ill, she wants to rush to my apartment and dote on me. Nurture me back to health. And I refuse to let her. I can&amp;amp;#8217;t stand being pampered. It drives me crazy. I am a man. Like Batman. And if Batman can sew his own wounds shut in his crime-fighting bunker, I can blow my nose in bed without help from anyone. For the record: I blow my nose with toilet paper, not &amp;amp;#8220;Kleenex,&amp;amp;#8221; the way the cavemen did. I appreciate her attentions, of course. But it&amp;amp;#8217;s my fight. The Frisky: Mind Of Man: Why Men Fight Men don&amp;amp;#8217;t need to be babied. But when my woman is sick, I become extremely &amp;amp;#133; protective. I wouldn&amp;amp;#8217;t say &amp;amp;#8220;nurturing.&amp;amp;#8221; No, if my girlfriend gets sick, I become focused on her getting better. But I&amp;amp;#8217;m very results-oriented about it. I project-manage her convalescence with the focus of a NASCAR pit crew or the Delta Force. There&amp;amp;#8217;s a game plan, a strategy. First off, I make sure she has enough pillows, and I inform her that if she wants to get better, she needs to get into her pajamas. So I put her into a bed that is made, and filled with pillows. Done. I make it a point to kiss her on the forehead. &amp;amp;#8220;What if you get sick?&amp;amp;#8221; she&amp;amp;#8217;ll cough. &amp;amp;#8220;That&amp;amp;#8217;s a chance I&amp;amp;#8217;m just going to have to take,&amp;amp;#8221; I&amp;amp;#8217;ll respond. Once she is secure in bed, I venture outside to procure supplies. These include a variety of pills, syrups, and lozenges for her to choose from. A small oil tanker&amp;amp;#8217;s worth of orange juice and tea are also important. I have a policy that when sick, a person can eat whatever it is he or she wants. A box of cookies or some kind of chocolate confection is purchased along with the fluids and medicinal intoxicants. I also make sure to buy a stack of celebrity magazines. Celebrity magazines are to women what comic books are to men, only less believable. Excellent entertainment when bed-ridden. I will slap these glossy magazines on the counter, and stare directly into the cashier&amp;amp;#8217;s eyeballs. My gaze will chill him to the bone and he will think, &amp;amp;#8220;Never have I seen a man with such steely purpose.&amp;amp;#8221; The Frisky: Mind Of Man: Where All The Good Guys Are Then I grab the ingredients for a gangster-ass pot of deeee-licious chicken noodle soup and return like a victorious warrior, a Viking laden with the spoils of righteous battle! Medicines are then dispensed. Fluids poured. Specific instructions are given: Drink! Sleep! Read about fatty Gerard Butler! Soup is made, ladled out. And then I stand guard over the patient, ready to fulfill any request. This is how I do it. More orange juice? Another cookie? A hot water bottle? I AM ON IT. The Frisky: Mind Of Man: Whatever You Do, Don&amp;amp;#8217;t Cohabitate For some reason, this satisfies some deeply primal need in me. To take care of the ones I love. Or at least, to hunt and gather the things needed to care for those I love, then hold a quiet vigil over in the corner. I sometimes worry that I utterly lack the ability to &amp;amp;#8220;nurture,&amp;amp;#8220; or to soothe. I sure as hell don&amp;amp;#8217;t like to be fretted over. But if I ever breed, and have to stay up with my sickly demon spawn, I hope I have it in me to go &amp;amp;#8220;cootchie-coo&amp;amp;#8221; and not just say, &amp;amp;#8220;Look me in the eyes: we will defeat this microscopic monster inside of you, with the help of baby aspirin, juice boxes, and cartoons!&amp;amp;#8221; --written by John DeVore for The Frisky Get more great relationship and dating advice at The Frisky! More Ways to Get Glamour You could win $50,000 just for registering or logging in to Glamour.com! Sign up for Glamour.com&amp;#x27;s Style Tips of the Week and Beauty Tip of the Day newsletters! Add Glamour to your iGoogle homepage. Follow Glamour on Twitter. Photo: Thinkstock Images "^^<http://www.w3.org/2001/XMLSchema#string>
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