Friday, February 05, 2010

the snit

So the Sober Husband has been gone this week on a business trip to the East Coast, and before that, he had a business obligation taking up the entire day on Saturday. Complicating matters Iris was sick during this whole time, leading to some stressful juggling on my part. The worst was on Saturday, when miserable, feverish Iris needed to stay home and perky, healthy Lola needed to be taken to a birthday party downtown, and my car was down the Peninsula with the Sober Husband.

What was shaping up to be a rough week got rougher when I had a sudden realization in the car the other day that time is up: my surgery is next week, and I'm not ready.

Meanwhile, the Sober Husband, ensconced in luxury hotels (why does he insist upon emailing photos of his suites and the magnificent views from the windows?), was out of touch with me. During the first few days of his trip, he sent a couple of emails to the children, but none to me. I answered the phone when he called, and he just said, "Put Iris on; I'm returning her call" and then hung up when he was through speaking to her. What a difference from the old days, when we talked on the phone for an hour or more every day whenever we were apart. On top of that, Iris was excited that he'd promised to take her to the Academy of Sciences during her upcoming vacation... which was when he was taking off work allegedly to take care of his post-surgical wife in the days immediately following her return from the hospital.

I became livid, particularly as I'd sent him off in style on his trip. (He'd effectively guilt-tripped me, saying, "What if my plane crashes? You'll want my last memories to be happy ones"). I sent a pissy note to him informing him that he was treating me as though I were nothing but the mother of his children and that if he didn't take care of me after my surgery, I was going to call a cab and check into a luxury hotel which offers room service, and I was going to stay there, charging up a storm, until I felt able to take care of myself, and I would no longer read his automated daily spending reports and budget nagging. He whined weakly that he "did email you", but I riposted that a picture of the view from his resplendent hotel signed "Love, Daddy" was not an email to me and did not count.


Vodalus said...

Have you told him that you are frightened that the surgery will be rough AND that he won't take care of you when you need him?

He's being really insensitive, but I'm guessing that it is a defense mechanism against his own fears. But I also bet that he doesn't realize that his current behavior is making your anxiety much, much worse.

If you haven't, you should tell him that while you need him to take care of you physically after the surgery, you also need him to take care of you emotionally in the days leading up to it.


hughman said...

i would be more proactive about your welfare during recovery. actually book a suite somewhere. get books you want. line up food (for you) and movies. when the time comes, he will just have to deal on his own and man up. it's not your job to hold his hand when you're trying so hard to hold your own. (also, complaining to people he knows about his behavior might guilt him back. get some soldiers on your side.)

Carol said...

This sucks, but it is part of who men are. They want to fix everything and since this is not something he can fix, he is effectively removing it from his field of vision. Pretending that all is well and will be just fine, we'll even go to a museum, oh my! I'm sorry. Every woman really does need a wife!

Dread Pirate Davi said...

You tell him!!


Missy said...

I'm with Hughman. Book the hotel even if it's just Embassy Suites.

How long will your actual hospital stay be--as best as you know?

(()) Missy

yvette said...

OMG! He is upset that you are losing your "womanhood". He thinks that you are choosing to do this in a cavalier manner without considering his feelings. He feels the need to punish you for the stress you have created for him. Which we know you plotted to do for weeks, assessing each plan, discarding the ones that created not enough stress, until you finally hit on the one that manages to hit all the right points of his insecurities of handling the children, being a man, and losing his wife. and they say women are the one with problems. Here is wishing you a sucessful surgery, a quick but not to quick recovery,(meaning milk it a little, you deserve it) and a full happy life. I was going to throw in the number of a good pschyotherapist for your husband but I remembered men don't like to talk about their problems. unless you count ridiculous cryptic statements like "you went down this path when you had the ultrasound."