This could go both ways, but I've never had a female nurse as a significant other, and men DO typically meet the stereotype of being giant babies when they're sick.
I woke up with strep yesterday. The day after Thanksgiving. In someone's guest bed. I don't know about you, but I feel even worse when I can't be sick in my own house. I punted the trip to visit my grandparents in the SNF (the thought of a dozen stroke patients with strep was too horrible to contemplate) and we drove home. I crawled into bed immediately after taking some amoxicillin, because I know strep and it will not go away without assistance.
If you've ever had strep you know you feel like you might die, but you know that once you get antibiotics on board you'll feel relatively human in just 24 hours. So I was mainly resigned. The man, though, was all, "ooooooooh, you look PITIFUL. No, I'm not going to kiss you. You'll be fine." Chop chop. Get a move on.
Just now, after being in bed for nearly 24 hours, and I don't care who you are, you feel GROSS after that, I crept into the shower and donned clean pajamas. The man mocked me. "Did you seriously just take off a pair of sweats and put on another pair of sweats?" Yes I did! And if you were a good nurse you would KNOW that environmental factors help you FEEL better! (My nuggets of wisdom were lost in his giggles.)
BUT. We have been together long enough that I can confidently predict what will happen. He will mock me and pooh-pooh my miniature illness, I mean, NO sympathy at all, and THEN in a few days? He will get the same thing and you would think he was DYING. DYING.
(And I'll act like a nurse too and say, "Oh, for heaven's sake. You're not that sick. Get up and go to work...")