Friday, June 11, 2010
The Friday Blog Hops
Here’s my Fawk You Friday. It’s one big story today. Sorry, but I’m freaking out again. You’ll see when you read it. I am usually not a person who holds a grudge, but I do have a few instances in my life where I feel seriously wronged. This is one of them.
We live about 450 miles from where most of our family lives. Three years ago my husband’s parents celebrated their 50th wedding anniversary. My husband has been the only living child having lost a brother in 1976 to cancer. We took 2 vehicles there because he was going to be staying longer than I was and because of work he would be doing for his parents at their house. Between our dogs and the tools he would need, there just wasn’t enough space, so we took the truck and my 4Runner.
While we were there my husband got sick. He got so sick he couldn’t go to the anniversary party. He was having severe stomach pains that would come and go. Well, after a couple days, we made the decision for me to go home without him and he would follow in a couple of days. The dogs were being typical dogs and causing problems where we were. So I went home with them.
The next morning when I called him, he said he was feeling better but wanted to wait another day. I told him I would call him later and we said goodbye. Later in the afternoon I tried to call him at his parent’s house and no one answered. I waited for a couple hours more and tried again. Still no answer. The next phone I tried was his cell phone. Lo and behold his father answers the phone. That is when I found out they had taken him to the hospital and he was being admitted. They had been there for about an hour at the time with NO CALL TO ME.
To preface this I should tell you that we lost a child to a malignant brain tumor so the word, tumor, is a HUGE kick in the gut to me. You will understand this after you have read the rest of the tale.
It takes about 7 hours to drive there and since it was already after 6, the decision was made to wait till the next day because I needed to make arrangements for the dogs. I couldn’t take them with me this time. By 8 pm he was in a room on morphine and no longer in pain, so the slight delay wasn’t a big deal for him. I won’t say it wasn’t a big deal for me though.
Needless to say, sleep eluded me that night and when I started off the next morning, I was wondering if I would be able to finish the drive. Periodically, I would call his cell phone to get an update. A couple of times no one answered, but when it was, it usually turned out to be his dad. He never told me anything that the doctor would say except for 3 things. It was diverticulitis, there was probably and infection, and he would need surgery. That was all I was ever told for the whole drive there. Not once did I get a call after the doctor had checked in on him to tell me exactly what was said or let me hear what was being said. NOT ONE CALL WAS MADE TO ME, SAVE ONE. It was the call to give me the quickest directions to the hospital.
By the time I walked in the lobby, I was fuming because all this time I had no real idea what was going on. I had no clue as to a schedule for surgery, and no one seemed to be inclined to tell me anything either. Well guess who I ran into in the lobby…..his parents. They acted like they hadn’t seen me for years and all I could think about was that I needed information. I started asking what meds he was on and they didn’t know. Then his mom leans into me, lays her hand on my arm and says, “And when the doctor said tumor…..” I was floored. No one had said there might be one and I think for preservation purposes, my brain did not go there even though I have an extensive amount of medical knowledge.
My reaction was fairly swift. I’m sure my expression was of complete shock. Then I said, “I never heard that”. My mother-in-law says, “I never talked to you”. Of course she didn’t. No one called me and told me ANYTHING! After a few more questions they couldn’t answer, they left and I went upstairs.
The next morning his father calls him, while he’s on morphine, and tells him they can’t come to the hospital because of me. In his drugged out state, he calls me and tells me I have to fix it and I can’t come until I do. By this time 2 of our kids have arrived and they were furious with both his parents and him. When I told them I wasn’t going to the hospital, they were completely baffled, but my daughter knew something had happened. My sister-in-law informed her of the situation. My daughter got in her car, drove to their house and unloaded on them while my son took the truck, went to the hospital, and unloaded on my husband, his own father. They seemed to understand how wrong this was.
To this day, they have not apologized, nor acknowledged that they may be wrong. In addition, my husband has never defended me to them about the whole situation. And to make it worse, I did apologize just to smooth things over for the duration of the ordeal even though I do not feel I was at fault. I don’t dwell on this, but they will be coming to stay with us for about 10 days in a couple of weeks. It’s the only time I really think about it.
It still sticks in my craw. My family would never have done that to him. They would have been concerned for him too, not just themselves. So if I say I was never part of that family, you know why.