Saturday, July 12, 2008


So there I was, minding my own business...
The FS calls Thursday. He's in the hospital. With a staph infection (yes, I made a rude comment, I couldn't help it) that has gone into the bone. He's having surgery today.
Why, you ask, did he call me--the woman he couldn't wait to get out of his life? Well...
I'm his official contact in his medical paperwork. Oh yes, I'm the decision maker, the plug puller, whatever you want to call it. He never changed his info. Even better--he NEVER TOLD ME he put me on to begin with!!
The exasperation here is monumental. The "I'll never get rid of him as long as I live" feeling is overwhelming, to say the least. The "Why me, God?" sensation is a thrill beyond all others, let me tell you.
In a word, oy.


spyscribbler said...

Oh, gosh. That's kinda scary. I've heard of people battling that for years.

Dube said...

I stumbled on your blog from another writer's blog... Just want to say that I'm so sorry this happened! It sounds like an awful situation, to not be able to untangle yourself. :-(