This Is The Part Where I Freak Out

This week? Can suck it.

I’ll save you the gory details and provide a bullet list of you-have-to-be-kidding to bring you to the final scene, which was very nearly my breaking point.

And as a relevant, but seemingly random precursor – I love my husband and trust him completely.

Also relevant – my best friend, half way through this list, tried to comfort me with, “It can’t get any worse, right?”

Never, ever tempt fate, people. They are some seriously petty, vindictive deities. Like Mean Girls, with magic.

So here we go:

  • Trip to San Diego costing me 3 days pay
  • bank account compromised while I was gone
  • car payment bounced as a result
  • internet/phone/tv bundle bounced triggering a disconnection of TV since I skipped the December payment (christmas decisions, you know? Dumbass)
  • Fell…hard…maybe should see a doc?
  • Phone portion of bundle shut off while on a client call
  • Begged mother-in-law for money to pay bill/buy groceries. I love her.
  • Internet disconnected WHILE I was on a skype call with them to pay bill
  • Can’t sleep, hurts too much, going to cave and go to the ER
  • Send hubs to buy groceries, CAR BROKE DOWN.
  • Stranger takes me to ER and is gracious enough to wait 4 HOURS
  • Learned via CT scan that I FRACTURED MY HIP in the past and was unaware of it. Seriously, how is that even POSSIBLE???
  • Mom had a moment of crystal clarity and realized she had no memories of a 2 year span, so I had to take her back through her fall, her rare disease diagnosis, Dad’s Cancer diagnosis, her electro-shock therapy, his death and her placement in a nursing home. Twice. Good times.
  • Beg best friend to drive 30 miles EACH WAY to bring me to get groceries (rural living sucks, have I mentioned this?)
  • Said friend also got my car towed to the garage w/ AAA. I love her
  • Mechanic’s mother has died, no idea when the shop will re-open (And I’m sad too, she was a lovely woman I always made time to chat with.)
  • Discovered upon reading the CTScan report and looking at the images that SOMEONE TIED MY LEFT FALLOPIAN TUBE WITHOUT MY KNOWLEDGE OR CONSENT!!!!!!!!
  • Remember that Quinn’s birthday and snack week will occur before I get paid again.
  • Same stranger (now he’s my buddy!) takes me to town for a followup doc appointment where I learn the statute of limitation for malpractice is only 3 years, so odds are I will have no recourse with the tubal ligation thing, even if I can figure out who did it.

Believe it or not, here is where the story begins. My breaking point. Dan has been relying on his co-workers to get back and forth to work. When I got home yesterday, I saw Amy’s truck in the drive and assumed she let him borrow it to get to work for his early shift in the morning.

Quinn and I went inside to a quiet house.

“Quinn, can you go upstairs and wake Daddy up so I can let the dog out?”

Off he went, while I wrangled the giant dog. When I came back in, Quinn was standing in the kitchen, a strange expression on his face, and clearly on the verge of tears.

“What’s the matter bud? Did you wake Daddy?”

“I don’t want to.”

“Why not?”

“Amy’s in bed too.”


I went up the stairs to the bedroom and pushed open the door to see the clear outlines of two people under the covers, my husband’s arm draped low along the second body.

My physical self recoiled, the nerves along my back firing as though my skin had been peeled off, my stomach lurching up to push against my rib cage, expanding it, I think, to make room for my heart as it accelerated.

For a moment, all I could do was look.

Finally, I reached out and shook my husband’s foot. Gently. If nothing else, this had to be quiet, because Quinn was at the foot of the stairs, listening.

He didn’t budge.

I shook him again, harder, feeling my leashed temper leak out in a feverish sweat along my arms.


Nothing. Another shake and I couldn’t hold it in any more. I wanted this over with. I checked to make sure Quinn was not standing in the doorway, then yanked the covers back for the reveal.

Stuffed animals. Lots of them. My husband’s bare knee resting on a stuffed dog.

The sudden cold woke him.


“It’s dinner time. Come downstairs and eat with us.”

I called Quinn up and showed him his toys, making sure he could see there was no one there except Daddy. My own relief was mirrored in his eyes, and I left him with his father, while I went downstairs to cook dinner and be grateful for the state of my life.

Because, no matter what,  it can always get worse.


14 thoughts on “This Is The Part Where I Freak Out

  1. Lynnette,

    You so had me with the ending. I could feel the anger, sorrow and frustration of “it can’t get any worse.” I am so glad it wasn’t worse than it already had been.

    I truly understand though “don’t tempt fate” because someone definitely has one wickedly mean sense of humor. It is only in the last few days that I have tried to get back into writing, posting and sharing with my online friends (after a long absence). I truly enjoy writing but life became so complicated I doubted myself and my abilities.

    I can tell you from my own personal experience…don’t begin to doubt yourself Lynnette and your writing abilities. You have a wonderfully passionate sense of humor that I find refreshing.

    Keep the faith and your chin up!!



  2. I echo Aaron’s thoughts. Fabulous piece of writing, I just wish it was fiction and not fact for you. My heart was pounding at the end – you are right, things can be worse.
    I love reading your posts Lynette, thank you and I hope that things get a hell of a lot better for you soon. Lottie xxx


  3. *hugs* I’m not sure I can articulate any words in response to your week. That is.. rough. I really hope that next week is MUCH better. Heck, I hope you’re just getting all the bad for the year out in the first week. Goodness me. *hugs again*


  4. I started to write, “I’m so glad I’m not the only one who experiences shitty weeks like this!”… but then I realized that would be mean, because seriously? How could I possibly be happy that anyone else would have to endure this kind of emotional + physical roller coaster? Misery might love company, friend, but I wouldn’t wish this shitty time period on ANYONE. I’m sorry you had to deal with all that. Hopefully you can take some small comfort in knowing You Are Not Alone. I feel your pain, sister.


  5. Holy crap Lynnette. This made me want to give you a pedicure, a new fallopian tube and a shot of tequila (not necessarily in that order).

    That is a crap week! And I’m so glad Amy wasn’t in the bed…


  6. Wow, that’s a lot of comments. Thanks to all of you who took the time to post some encouragement…especially since things continued to go south after this post – we learned of a death in my husband’s family by suicide, my husband nearly lost his job by doing the right thing in trying to help a woman get her wallet back that was stolen, and my mother’s doctor told me he was going to be moving her into hospice care, which means she has a 6 month life expectancy. It’s like the hammer of the Gods came down on us this week. I’m hoping Ryan is right, that my year’s worth of bad is condensed into the first week or so…

    After writing this post, I kind of hunkered down to ride out the roller coaster, and am pulling myself back together…my bank account has been released, and though I’m a few hundred down, at least I have access to the rest, we got our car back after 8 days, all of my utilities are back on and I’m getting a grip. There is still a lot to wade through, but at least I’m in a place now where I can be grateful for the progress that was made and above all else, that my son has lots of stuffed animals.

    Thank you all so much.


    • Shit, and after all of that, I didn’t even comment on your comment. Lynnette, if there is any fairness in this world. you will have a good year. I pray it is so for you. You and your need some time to at least decompress. Your in my prayers to Zeus, God and whoever else I need to pray to for you. Mary


  7. I’m not mad at you at all for taking us on that ride, I was with you all the way, Lynnette. The Fates, or Mean Girls have a horrible way of targeting those of us who may have not suffered enough. Or to turn it around, we have been tested and have been found to be able to take it on the chin and give it back and then some. All of the horrible platitudes about keeping a stiff upper lip and all of that are ridiculous. The ground fell away when I read the part about your mother’s lucidity and having to explain your father’s death. How in the name of anything Holy of Unholy does that fall to any child, whether an adult or non-adult, or, now, words have failed me, and that’s a pretty rare thing indeed. Look around; this is a pretty august group of writers here, and we’re all pretty well flabbergasted and bollixed up and baster-flabbered! Sorry, Lynnette. I truly am. I am not making light of anything! I’m just flat run out of stuff to say. Hugs to you and Dan and Quinn and Amy; everyone. Life is something; ain’t it?


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