Men are babies

So my boyfriend is 31 and I think he is dying. Correction..HE thinks he is dying. He has strepped throat. It was a soar throat from Friday until Monday and then he finally went to the Dr (he works in a hospital) this morning and got some real medicine.
So start with last week when he starts to feel his throat hurt and is ache..he wont take anything for 2 days and then finally he just takes whatever. He is in pain and moaning, but he wont stop. He wants to do this and that, he stays up late and doesnt want to rest. Whatever. I had just lectured him that if he didnt slow down he would kill himself.
He moans so loud that I rush to him thinking that maybe its his last breath. Maybe today is the day I say goodbye to the love of my life. He is tossing and turning and I can hear him groaning so loudly he has the dog going nuts.
I hear over and over in this coarse voice..my throat hurts. I get text messages saying that his throat hurts..and thats it.
He is a bit grumpy..snaps a little but I know he doesnt mean it. He is in pain, I can see it as he tries to choke down his soup. I try to fluff his pillows and make him comfortable, I try to bring him his medicine on time and keep him hydrated. He is in pain, I mean his throat hurts, feel it, he tells me over and over (and when I do he yells " Oww")
I run out to the store and by potatoes, maybe that will be easier for him to swallow. I even buy jello. He looks up like a sad little puppy dog and faints a "thank you".
I know he is in pain, I also know that he is a 31 year old man, who has fought in combat four different times. He has weathered many a storm, but I think he has met his match. I get this urge to roll him up in a blankie and give him a pacifier and hold him in my arms. I want to sing to him and rock his precious little face. I want to tell him how much I love him and kiss his forehead over and over again, reminding him that he will get better..but I wont. Its hard enough right now not to laugh at him. His pain isnt funny, it really isnt. What is funny is how pathetic he looks and how pathetic he allows himself to look. I appreciate that he is secure and trust me enough to look so vulnerable but if we are being honest (and face it, that is the only way I know how to be) its kind of sad. I want my big burly strong man. I want my tough guy who would break a mans neck in one snap. Where is he? Oh he is there, he is lying on the couch, wearing his stinky pajamas, spitting into a Gatorade bottle because it hurts too bad to swallow. Yup, that is my big strong man..thats him there hiding under all that sad dying moaning and groaning.
He wont die. I promise him that, but I still dont think he believes me.