Over in Pets I wrote about how Murphy met the paramedics yesterday when my mom suffered a stroke during breakfast and I had to call 911. I spent all morning in the ER until they admitted my mom to the hospital, and then I stuck around until they got her situated in a room. Except for when I left for two hours from 4:15 p.m. to 6:30 p.m. to finally get some food (I hadn’t eaten all day) and to feed the fur kids and walk Murph, I was in the hospital from nine to nine.
Wayne didn’t have time to come to the hospital. He didn’t even get home until almost 11 p.m. He didn’t even call. (I did talk to him –when I called after we got a room around 1 p.m. He spared me 30 seconds –not an exaggeration.)
I know he’s busy working on the newest assignment and these are the crazy hours he keeps. But in situations like these I can’t understand why exceptions aren’t made.
Back in March when I got the first call about my mom, I knew I had to fly to Denver solo. I desperately wanted Wayne there with me like how I was there for him when his dad passed away. But because of his job and me stressing about leaving Murph and the cats, it worked better that he stayed behind.
Now here we go again: him working night and day on another deal and me caring for my mom. Alone.
My sister’s in Denver and Wayne’s always working. The only solace I have found is in the few friends I have here. They’ve been really good about calling to check in on me and that’s made a big difference.
But I’m tired of being alone!
I feel hopelessly deserted by Wayne and I don’t quite know how to come to grips with it. Because not only do I feel physically lonely, I feel emotionally abandoned. No time is a good time for such feelings, but this is a particularly bad one.