Ed and Coni’s excellent (ongoing) saga

11 03 2009

The past few weeks have been intense.

I was absolutely miserable at my job and had a huge decision to make about leaving. After a couple of weeks, I finally reached the conclusion that my life is too short to spend 10-12 hours a day feeling nasty if I did not have to. And, I do not have to. Although I do enjoy SOME of the people I was working with, their inter-action with me was not enough to make a difference. Without naming names, it is just not OK to treat people with disrespect. I say please and thank you a lot. I want folks to know that I do not expect to be served and when I am served, I appreciate it. Wether you are a waiter, a bank teller, a janitor or a celeb, it is common courtesy to say please and thank you. I will refrain from any further ranting on this subject. Bottom line, I don’t want to work with rude, mean people who are allowed to get away with rude, mean behavior. ‘Nuff said.

My last day was on a Tuesday. I slept for 10 hours that night and I cannot tell you one single thing that I did on Weds. I was mentally, physically and emotionally exhausted. Thursday morning I awoke at 5:30 to a banging sound. It is pretty common for me to move to the back bedroom most nights to get away from the roaring locomotive that emerges through Ed’s nasal passages at night. I lay there for a minute thinking, “What crazy neighbor is doing construction on their home at this hour?” My beagle mix, Bella, started barking her head off and I was a little annoyed that Ed was not trying to quiet her. I came out of the back room to hear my husband yelling for me. That will send chills through anyone. He was lying on the bedroom floor where he had crawled to reach the door and he was banging the door against the wall to make noise to wake me. It had taken him an hour and a half to crawl that far from where he had fallen. What a nightmare! He could not move any more. He was exhausted and in agony.  The EMTs were fairly quick to arrive and as they were wheeling him to the ambulance he yelled back to me, “Bring my shoes cause I am coming home with you!” One of the EMTs looked at me and said, “Ma’am, I don’t know how stubborn your husband is but I don’t think he will be needing those shoes. He sure is acting like his hip is broken.”

I followed the ambulance to the hospital after throwing a pair of jeans, a t-shirt and his shoes into a bag.

Sure enough, the man was right. Ed broke his hip and would not be coming home with me. In fact, I did not come home for 2 days myself.

to be continued…..


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