Last Sunday night/early Monday morning I thought that Matt's stomach pains were just another instance of what I like to call, Men-Can-Be-Such-Goddamn-Whiny-Babies-When-They-Are-Sick Syndrome.
So, around 4 a.m. when he said that he was going to drive to the emergency room and that I didn't need to go with him and should just stay home with Paddy, I'm ashamed to say that I let him. Drive. Himself. To. The. Hospital. Wow, that looks as awful typed out as it sounds spoken aloud, doesn't it? Yep, I am an asshole.
Yeah . . . not one of my best decisions. Turns out, Matt's appendix was swelling and getting ready to burst. Poor thing. This time, his distress was not worthy of an Oscar, but rather caused by genuine, unadulterated pain. Yep, I am an asshole.
The ER doctor recommended surgery right away, Matt went under the knife around 9 a.m. and we were home by 3 p.m. The Appendix-less One is taking it easy and doing much better. He'll be back to normal in no time. And I'll still be an asshole.
Saturday, November 07, 2009
Appendix A-Hole: Reason #3,449 that I'm an asshole
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4 comments:
If it makes you feel any better we didn't need Matt's appendix to explode to know you are an asshole :-)
Peter (or men in general) cries wolf...you're not an asshole.
hmmm....this stoty sounds so familiar. Oh, I did the EXACT SAME THING to my husband last January, except it wasn't even the middle of the night. I told him to drive himself there, check in, and call me in two hours when they finally got him processed through the ER (I even used a little sarcasm.) I made it to the hospital just in time to see him wheeled into surgery. Oops. Glad to hear that I am not the only member of the club. :)
Weston: Meeeean!
Bets: I agree with your generalization.
Katherine: Your confession makes me feel much, much better. Thank you!
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