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“I was on the East Coast, had been married for six years, and had to have surgery for endometriosis. My mom on the West Coast was headed out to help after surgery. On the day of the surgery, my husband didn’t want to take time off because he didn’t want to sit alone in the hospital. My 45-minute surgery ended up with complications and took four hours. I’d been planning on checking out after the surgery, but the complications mandated a night of pain in the hospital. My husband hadn’t called or checked on me; instead, he’d gone to a colleague’s birthday party at a local bar. He said hospitals were depressing.”
“The next day, Saturday, my 70-year-old mom arrived in the big city by herself. My husband didn’t pick her up at the airport, help with luggage, or answer his cell, nor was he at the hospital with me. My mom figured out the hospital I was at, paid for a taxi, and sat with me until I could check out. We couldn’t get him to pick us up at the hospital to go home; he had a headache! I knew then that I was truly alone in my marriage, and it was the kick in the pants I needed to get a divorce.”
—Anonymous
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