What IS it about men and illness???

My cold from last week got significantly worse over the New Year's weekend, and I woke up at 4am Tuesday with my arm glued to me face from the discharge coming out of my eyes. Thank you, bacterial conjunctivitis. Went to see my favorite doc, and Jimmy told me that my lungs were also full of crap, which was why it was painful to take a deep breath, my temperature and my white count were both up, and the conjunctivitis was bacterial, likely from the infection that was already in my lungs and working on becoming pneumonia. Great. I can't go back to work until Monday because I'm officially contagious, I'm on all kinds of meds now, and the steroids he gave me to help clear out my lungs are making me absolutely nuts. I haven't slept more than 3 hours straight in two days, and when I do sleep I have the most bizarre and unsettling dreams, so I'm not feeling rested at all.
Add to all this my incredibly asanine husband, who apparently thinks that because I don't have to go to work, I should be able to do all sorts of things. When I asked him to pick up milk for the kids, his answer was "Why can't you do it?" When I told him (again) that I was sick and contagious, and trying to avoid contact with people, he sighed, and acted annoyed and put out. I called Mal to ask him to pick up the kids for me Tuesday, and when he knew he wouldn't be back in time, he called me and asked, "Why can't Steven do it?" My response was "Right. That's not going to happen." I don't know what he said to Steve, but I know he called him, and Steve came home early and picked up the kids. Unfortunately, whatever he said to him didn't stick. Yesterday I asked him if he would pick up the kids, and he said if he got home early. I assumed this meant that he would if he got home in time. He got home at 4:00, laid down on the bed upstairs, and when I asked when he was leaving to get the kids, he said "I thought you were going to do it." When I reminded him that he had in fact gotten home in time, he snapped, "I don't feel like it, okay? Why can't you do it?" He doesn't seem to care that I'm sick and exhausted. I ended up going to pick up the kids, and when I got home I ignored him and went upstairs and passed out for two hours. You would think that he would have at least have had some thought that I was getting behind the wheel of the Tahoe -- the most expensive thing we own other than the house, and he would have at least have been concerned that something might happen to the truck.
This morning he sighed and asked me "how are you feeling?" When I said that I felt like shit and that I hadn't slept more than three hours at a stretch in two days, he said nothing and just walked out the door. I've had thoughts of calling the locksmith and getting the locks changed and throwing his clothes into the driveway, but he wouldn't even know why. It drives me crazy because when he gets sick, the world stops on a dime, and he goes to bed and expects me to do everything for him. When I get sick, he gets annoyed that I even ask him to do anything. When he asks how I am, it comes across like he thinks he HAS to ask the question but doesn't give a shit about the answer. If I tell him anything about symptoms or how I feel, he doesn't respond other than looked irritated or annoyed. How is it that he can be so goddamn unsympathetic and incapable of any empathy whatsoever? Every time this happens I have this thought that if I ever have something truly go wrong with me, like God forbid, getting cancer or something else serious like that, he will be an utter hindrance to treatment and recovery.