'Fragile'

'Fragile': the word a friend used to describe my husband.  How true that is.  He is fragile in so many ways.  He is constantly hurting himself physically.  I want to believe that he is tougher than he is, but . . . . Not experiencing the blows he takes playing soccer or basketball, I can't really judge.  Even if I could, we are two different people, so still can't stand in judgement.  Yet, I'm getting tired of it all.  Do I have to hear about each injury everyday until they go away? The absolute declarations: "I am not going to the gym for the next month, until this heals!"  So instead, he is going to sit around the house and grouse about it. I'm not sure what he wants from me.  It isn't like injures from playing soccer or basketball are unexpected.  Oh, and if he injures his bowling hand. . . .  
I don't talk about my pain.  Maybe that is the problem.  He is willing to talk about his and in doing so gets the attention needed to heal the pain.  I on the other hand, keep it all inside.  Not knowing the proper way to share, not knowing what to do with the advice, sympathy, or empathy.  Over the years, I have established that going to the doctor for physical pain is pointless.  They can't tell me what is wrong and only want to give me drugs to mask the issues.  Medicines create even bigger problems for me--finding ones that I can take that won't make me sick.
My husband has the luxary to be 'fragile'; I don't.  It sucks.