Hair of the Dog February 06 -09.

We went back to hospital on Friday at 11. Jen was in excruciating pain and nauseous.  We came in at the direction of Dr. P.  His nurse called around 11 and asked Jenny to go back to the ER to get an additional CT scan of her abdomen Jenny was angry because I didn't call an ambulance as Moni had done in the

middle of the night that same day.  The difference is that she couldn't walk in the earlier incident because of pain.  Here, she walked out to the car of her own volition.  Whatever. We were at the hospital 10 minutes later.  Jenny wanted ambulance transport because she didn't want to sit in the waiting room.  I can't blame her, given her excruciating pain.  We waited less than 5 minutes before being taken back to Bay 21.  

They get her in and give her dilaudid on a separate IV, rather than from her pump.  I held her hand, she hates needles and the pain they cause. It, the dilaudid, took effect almost immediately. Her relief was visible.  She got on her phone. I knew who she was texting. I said nothing.  

Around 2:00 pm, they wheeled her away to get a CT scan or scans.  She gave me her phone to watch.  I looked. She had been texting Eric the pinché motherfucker.

She came back around 2:40.  The doctor said Jenny would be admitted.  The doctor leaves, I'm stewing, but appear placid. Jenny says to me, "you can leave, I'm getting admitted." So, go ahead and leave and go to your therapy.  I had therapy scheduled for later that afternoon.  I stand up, grab my coat and hat, saying to her "I will leave, that will allow you to text Eric the pinché motherfucker as much as you want."  I didn't yell.  I didn't even raise my voice, but did convey my anger.

Jenny responds, "I'm emailing all my friends."  I respond, Eric the pinché motherfucker isn't your friend, and we agreed in therapy that you would not text him when at the hospital." Her quick rejoinder was a weak, "But he's worried about me." I say, "I spent the last day and a half caring for you, rubbed your head and feet, cleaned puke off your mouth, held your hand, and you cannot even show me enough respect to not text your boyfriend when I'm present? " She tries to respond, but I leave.  I was at my wit's end.

Outside, I started thinking about what she would tell her sisters. Certainly not the truth.  I call Chris.  Jenny has told her I left her in hospital. We had words.  At the end, I made it clear that I left after Jenny invited me to leave, saying she would be fine, and only then did I raise the issue of Eric the pinché motherfucker.

I went to herapy at 4, meeting via my phone while sitting in the car in the VM parking garage.  I sobbed, realizing that I had thought that if I just took care of her she would see the light and stop this.  My therapist correctly pointed out that it doesn't matter what I do.  She also pointed out what I am doing is the same thing I did with my mom, trying to curry favor so she would love me.

Jenny hadn't kept anything down since Thursday. Saturday, sitting in the hospital, was no better for her.  I was at the house with the kids.  Leiney was awake, Abby sleeping when at 9:47 a.m. I texted Jenny the following:

Why don't you have him call me. I have words for him today. But he is too much of a bitch ass punk, isn't what he called me on your Signal app a few weeks ago. So, I will give him some time today to grow a pair. And then, I'm calling him. Make sure he has his big boy pants on, thx.

At 9:57 a.m.  He either calls me now, or I call Kandace.  Now.

At 10:00 a.m.  He has about 5 minutes to call me. I have her number, sooo, his call.  .  .

Jenny at 10:01 a.m. He isn't responding to my texts. I'm sorry. Nothing I can do about that.  And why today while I'm trying to get healthy? Im full of stress.

Starting at1015 Eric the pinché motherfucker and I have this colloquy:

Miraculously, he called at 10:30. I'm not proud, but am satisfied with my harangue.  And, it was a harangue.  I called him a fucking worm, over and again.  I called him a piece of shit repeatedly.  Told him he was stealing Jenny's time from my children and me.  He tried to have gall.  He said, oh, so you can have an affair and I can't?  I responded, fuck you you don't know me, you know nothing about me.  How dare you try and talk about me, you know nothing about my pathetic little affair that happened 10 years ago.  Fuck you.  I forgave Jenny her first affair.  We all fuck up.  Eric the pinché motherfucker fixated on that, apparently he didnt know about Jason.  He asked me what affair over and sgakn and I said, fuck you I'm not going to share my family history with you.

I complained that I am taking care of her, wiping her puke, and he is texting her.  He says, I swear to God, "I've been trying to stay away to be respectful."  I lost my shit again, okay, I never had my shit together.  I again called him a fucking worm.  He asked me if I wanted him to care for her, which missed the point completely. He asked what I wanted, and I told him, "I want you to tell your wife about the affair and to knock this shit off."  He assured me he would tell his wife.  I hung up, knowing he was lying.

So, on Sunday, I sent this:





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