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They say bad things come in threes.

Two weeks ago, I checked my phone after a busy day at work only to discover a string of texts and missed calls from Perfect Husband, first telling me about stabbing stomach pains, then mentioning a trip to the walk in clinic, followed by a trip to the emergency room, followed by updates saying that he was being given Oxycontin and that they wanted to do a CAT scan.

Later, when I asked him why he hadn’t called my work instead of my cell, he said “well, I figured that if you weren’t checking your texts it must be really busy…”

HMM. What is more important? A string of dogs with torn dewclaws, or your HUSBAND BEING IN THE HOSPITAL?

So anyway, I rushed to Owl’s daycare, picked him up and drove to North Vancouver. There a friend of PH’s met me and took Owl to her house so I could sit with PH.

We had about an hour to wait after his CAT scan for the results. A busy doctor bustled up to him and said “PH? You have *gobbledegook word*. Which is nothing. But it hurts a lot!”

His condition, which sounds like nonsense to me even though I work in a veterinary setting and deal with words like “hyperkeratosis” and “orchidectomy” on a daily basis, basically meant that he would be in excruciating pain for the next 3-10 days, and there was nothing they could do about it.

So they sent him home with Tylenol 3. A day and a half later I skipped half a day of work to drag him into his family doctor and get him some REAL painkillers, since the Tylenol 3 wasn’t doing a damn thing and he was moaning like a woman in labour.

The receptionist, who appears to loathe humanity and their collective weaknesses, huffed and puffed and rolled her eyes and complained about how VERY busy they were. “In the future, it’s best to make an appointment two or three days in advance, Mr PH,” she snapped.

“He was in the emergency room two days ago,” I pointed out.

Before she could retort, his doctor came out and agreed to make time for him. So I sat and waited for him while the receptionist turned to bullying a pregnant Chinese woman and her husband because they had just arrived in Canada two weeks ago and didn’t have health cards yet.

We finally left with a prescription for Percocet and PH spent the next four days zonked on the couch.

Meanwhile, I was basically a single mother.

Single Moms: I DON’T KNOW HOW YOU DO IT.

I have so much respect for those of you who have to care for your child and work full time with no help.

I was so exhausted. Normally I deal with Owl in the mornings, but in the evenings PH cooks while I entertain Owl and then we both put him to bed, wash the dishes etc.

By the time I had cooked a meal, fed Owl, bathed him, put him to bed and cleaned the kitchen, it was 11 pm and I would just collapse, only to get up at 6:30 and start all over again.

Meanwhile poor PH was lying on the couch stoned on percocet, alternately saying

“I’m the worst husband ever” and “my head is kind of swimming…”

PH hates feeling useless, and the worst was when I had to recruit a friend to look after Owl last Saturday because I had an Animal Health Technology conference to go to, and PH had too much pain/narcotics to be able to care for him.

“Do you know how much it sucks not to be capable of caring for your own child?” he asked miserably.

By early the next week he was off of the pain meds and just had to be careful not to overdo things. By then, though, I was so run down that I had contracted laryngitis.

On PH’s first day back to work, I drove him in so he wouldn’t have to start his day with an hour and a half of commuting. He starts work an hour earlier than I do, so there was time to drive him to work, take Owl to daycare, and still get to work on time.

Except that our car got a flat.

On a hill.

In rush hour traffic.

PH, despite his discomfort, managed to get the hubcap off, the nuts off, and the jack under the car, only for the car to start to slide on the steep hill.

So we had to call a tow truck. I was delighted by the fact that our rescuers were both women, and kept telling Owl, “Look, the LADIES are fixing our car!”

The next day I took the car in to the shop and spent $1100 bucks on a new battery, new brakes (obviously) and two new tires. The defroster is still broken because apparently mechanics won’t deal with it because it involves the glass, and autoglass places won’t touch it because it involves wiring.

Grand.

On Friday, Owl finally caught my laryngitis and came down with a fever and headache.

He has spent the last three days coughing himself awake constantly and dribbling snot everywhere. I had to stay home from work on Friday to take care of him (PH has missed enough work recently) and I even let him watch Sesame Street, I was just so out of energy.

Now PH is back to full usefulness, thankfully, and hopefully Owl and I will manage to get well before PH manages to catch our sickness.

I think we’ve had enough crap thrown at us lately. Our luck should turn around soon.

Time to buy a lottery ticket?

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