Friday, September 5, 2014


He almost died last week. 
What do I feel?
Bloody annoyed actually.

This is how it happened..

He'd been ill again - another awful hacking cough and wheezing. He told me on his second visit to the doctor that it was an infection and he'd been given antibiotics. 

I let him have Lilly for their Friday sleep over: she gets very excited about these. 
When He brought her back Saturday they were both sharing his water bottle. Hygiene and infection control have never been his strong points. 
But it is Lilly's and she told me she 'didn't want to drink from his bottle and get his germs but..' she didn't ask for her own because she 'was scared he'd get mad at her.'

The feedback from both of them after these sleep-overs makes it obvious he still has a very short fuse. But she usually comes back all smiles, running to me arms wide  bellowing; "I'm back from the holiday mummy!' so I guess it's nothing too serious.

On Sunday, he sounds worse so Lilly and I decide, not to make dolls clothes as we'd planned, instead to go to the pharmacy and buy some medicine and take it to Daddy. I also buy him nicotine patches to give his lungs a break. 

He's leaving for London on Tuesday (to interview for jobs) and when he calls in to say goodbye to Lilly, his cigarettes are poking out of his top pocket. 
I say; "Why arent you using the patches? If you don't stop sucking on those death-sticks when you can hardly breath as it is-you will end up in hospital" 

That night Lilly has the highest fever of her life. I stay up with her all night giving her medicine and mopping her burning little body with cold wet towels. 
I keep looking at the thermometer in dismay;  'Great' I think; 'swan off to London after making your daughter so ill.  Thanks a lot arsehole'
I curse his negligence.
I curse his existence. 
And I wonder how long if at all I should wait before I call the ambulance.

WE got through the night but I missed a call at 5:30am because I've finally passed out from the long night nursing my feverish baby. 

The voicemail says he has been taken by ambulance from his first job interview to a London hospital with respiratory failure.
When I call the hospital, they tell me he's on a vetilator, but he may need to be transferred to a specialist unit in another hospital because his blood oxygen remains dangerously low with high levels of carbon dioxide.

My iPhone recently having dropped the entire contents of my contacts has not recovered all my numbers from back-up  so I go onto our laptop to access his contacts so I can get in touch with his family
But I can't; Mister Secrets has changed all his passwords so I can't see what he's up to. 
Well great. Good  job sport -that makes getting you some help so much easier.

I want to throttle him, if he survives that is.

Lilly's not too bad through the day, cheerful but a bit lethargic. But she crashes each night.
The doctor took a swab of her tonsils suspecting she has flu. We both had flu-shots, but there's no guarentee.

A day later a message comes through that He has H1N1 flu. Swine Flu - as in the pandemic  of 2009  that killed many people. The hopsital staff are worried about Lilli since I'd mentioned she was too ill to travel. Another 24 hours and it's confirmed- her father gave her Swine Flu. Our doctor thinks she's more resilient beacuse of the vaccine, so that's encouraging.

By this time her father has undergone an operation to insert huge tubes into his jugular and some other major artery so an Ecmo machine can pump out his blood- remove the carbon dioxide, oxygenate it and pump it back into his body. 

If it werent for Face Book messenger he would have been alone now and none of his family any the wiser. They didn't find out as soon as if I'd been able to phone, but thanks to frantic FB messaging and texting friends of friends; his brother, father and best friend are bed-side.
The hospital specialist says he is sedated unconscious and needs to be for the duration. I am asked how much alcohol he drinks; there are issues with his liver as well.

Not entrirely surprising.
I'm quite shocked with myself that I'm feeling so numb at this point. I just keep thinking: this is another self inflicted disaster that needent have happened.  

He made conscious choices: to take up smoking again and chain smoke at that. To do without sleep in favour of clubs and late night bars. To live on chocolates, cookies, pizza and instant noodles washed down with red-bull, cola, coffee and wine.

To think our GP spent an hour on the phone to me one night insisting he had Lilly staying with him more often. "it would be good for him.."
Well besides the fact I've never limited his access to her and I actively support their relationship- let's also consider what's good for her shall we?

He clearly cant take care of himself let alone a child. 
One night a week waking up to a breakfast consisting of chocolate chip cookies; and warmed up left over take-out pizza for lunch  (that's been sitting on the bench overnight) is plenty for any young stomach.

So I'm more angry than worried. He treats his body like a garbage dump and as a result he's run-down, picking up every bug going around and constantly suffering from chest infections which he passes on to our asthmatic offspring.
I guess this shows me how far I'm checked out of this relationship. 
After three years propping him up through depression and the last six month's of his inflicting chaos, conflict and an endless supply of 'What the F*ck' revelations has just knocked all the stuffing out of me.

I told him a month ago after his last angry and abusive rant, that he had used up what was left of my goodwill.
It wasnt an angry taunt it was a statement of fact.
I'm in survival mode now- I'm the only responsible adult looking after my reduced family - and that is my one and only priority.

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