My best-friend-from-grade-5-Laurie has her own blog and I have learned in the past few days that one should be brutally aware of what one types on her blog. Especially when it concerns what a whiny-ass, intolerable, life-sucking baby her husband is when he is sick.
Laurie was slightly overwhelmed with an upcoming school band trip for her 14-year-old daughter's Catholic school in which she was to be responsible for protecting the virginity of at least 20 other 14-year-old Catholic school girls. She already feels like she is going to be struck by lightning every time she walks through the esteemed, judgemental halls of her daughter's school and felt that, although she was volunteering for kicks and chuckles, all of the eyes of the good parents would be upon her.
Now, the added stressor; her husband gets sick a couple of days before she is to leave. Not just a little: puking, rolling, panting, moaning, sweating, begging, needy sick. Laurie has two thoughts; "I need sleep and he better not give whatever he has to me." And she expressed this explicitly in her blog and, most certainly, to him.
She rides a bus with 52 teenagers for 15 hours to get to the great city of Vancouver, where I happen to be for work. We have a great couple of days touring and shopping "away from it all" but, alas, the husband is still sick. Men, seriously!
Here's the punchline; he is really sick! She calls me at 1 am to tell me that she is catching the next flight home because her husband is in the hospital awaiting surgery for a bowel obstruction.
He's full of shit! Sorry, it had to be said.
I can only imagine the rollercoaster of guilt and worried emotions that the 2 hour flight had in store for her. But, my friend is resilient. What a trooper! By time I phoned her to check on them the following afternoon, she was just leaving the hospital room telling me that she had to get out of there because whatever that shit was that they were suctioning out of his gut, was really gross.
He's fine, she's great and all previously intact virtue is still intact, or so it is assumed. And, I will make one more phone call to her to make sure that no one has died before I push the post button.