February 27, 2006
Hassled
Today's mystery blogee? Husband's ex-wife. (I know -- I'm taking my life in my hands.) I'll just call her Mrs. X.
Mrs. X and I get along reasonably well, all things considered, and she's never pulled any of the Classic Ex-Wife Bullshit we've all seen on "Law & Order." She doesn't use the girls to get back at us. She doesn't extort money from us. She doesn't drive on our lawn.
She sends Christmas and birthday gifts. She keeps Husband up-to-date on the girls' everyday lives. She is well-intentioned... to a fault.
For example.
Last Thursday morning, I called Husband in the hospital, hoping not to wake him. He felt AWFUL. In addition to the blood loss, the plummeting hemoglobin, the craving of food other than Jello, the shortness of breath and general feeling of malaise, he also had a migraine.
Not a my-head-really-hurts thing, but a full-on, axe-through-the-skull, can't-speak-or-move, and for-God's-sake-turn-off-the-damn-light migraine. And as he was explaining this to me, they came to take him for his endoscopy, so he had to quick hang-up.
A little bit later, I got an email from Mrs. X, asking for Husband's room and bed number, so she could call the hospital and "hassle" him. I'm sure she was just trying to add some levity to the situation, but unlike the mysterious bug-bite and the drillbit through the foot, this hospital visit was a bit more serious. And painful. I'm thinking Husband didn't want to be "hassled" any more than he wanted to be sent a Singing Clown-O-Gram.
I emailed Mrs. X back and gave her his room and bed info -- to be used at some later point in time -- but politely requested that she not call him just yet. I described his current condition and the pending endoscopy and asked that there be no phone calls until I knew he was up for it.
Now, I'm sure some of you are thinking, "Oh, you just don't want her talking to him at all!"
But, seriously, if that were the case, I would be a freakin' basketcase, huddled fetal-style in the corner, drooling and babbling. They have children together. They email and call all the time. I don't care if she talks to him, as long as he's not praying for death's sweet release at the time.
Husband called me after he woke up from the endoscopy to report that, contrary to what the doctors told him to expect, he STILL had the migraine. Apparently, anesthesia remains ineffective against supernatural-strength migraines. But at least they were letting him eat. If you can consider eating hospital food to be a good thing. Which we all know it isn't. So I don't know why I'm even talking about it.
Moving on.
Before succumbing to the morphine, Husband expressed his desire to see me that night. And only me. He wasn't up to social calls and didn't want his girls seeing him in his current state, i.e. less life-like than the animatronic presidents at Disney World.
I emailed an update on him to people I knew would want to hear, including Mrs. X, and got a reply from her something to the effect of, "Great! The girls and I are gonna visit him after dinner tonight!"
*sigh*
Now, I understand the desire to cheer up the afflicted. And I get that nothing in the world brings Husband more joy than seeing his girls. I really do.
BUT WHAT IN THE DING-DONG-DIDDLY WAS SHE THINKING?!?! If he didn't want a simple phone call, why would he want visitors?!
There I was, banging my head on my desk, and were she a normal ex-wife, I could have replied to her email with expletives and threats and many, many exclamation points. But she's not a normal ex-wife. And I found myself writing to her like I was writing to The Girl Child.
"Dear Mrs. X,
"When a Mommy and Daddy love each other very much, they often rely on each other to do things like ignore the skidmarks in their undies, be patient with their in-laws, and keep well-wishers at bay when they are in horrible agony. Remember when you fell down the stairs and would only let Mommy hold you for the rest of the day, so she couldn't get anything else done? It's kinda like that."
And she complied, although I'm sure she was probably banging her head on her desk and wishing she could respond with expletives. It's a strange and tenuous truce -- this First Wife/Second Wife relationship -- to be sure.
Later that night, while I was holding Husband's hand and mopping the sweat off his brow with a lace kerchief, he drew his shawl tighter around his shoulders and mentioned that Mrs. X had called and asked if they could come visit.
[Wenchie deadpans a look to the camera.]
I'm sure there'll be donuts on my lawn when I get home tonight. And not the good kind.
Comments
NO She didn't?!!
I'm the second wife to my ex and I'm going to be the second wife this time around too. The first wives and myself..we just hate each other--makes things easier. I'm H-O-R-R-I-B-L-E at brown nosing. Honestly I tried to be nice to both of them, but they were'nt taking the bait. Oddly my ex-husband gets along wonderfully with my fiance. Must be a man thing.
Posted by: Michele at February 27, 2006 01:49 PM
Still rolling....
Nice work!
Posted by: matt at February 27, 2006 04:57 PM
I'm sure there'll be donuts on my lawn when I get home tonight.
Bitchin' Camaro, bitchin' Camaro
Donuts on your lawn
Bitchin' Camaro, bitchin' Camaro
Tony Orlando and Dawn!
Sorry, dearest Wenchie, can't help myself!!
Posted by: some_other_dave at February 28, 2006 12:55 AM
Obviously, she doesn't get your authority on the situation. Children or not, that's not the time for the girlies to see daddy.
Does she still have a "thing" for him, possibly?
Posted by: Queen of Ass at February 28, 2006 10:17 AM