I came home from work yesterday to DS15 throwing up in the bathroom, in a bit of a panic, and seemingly having quite a severe allergic reaction to some granola he'd just eaten. He had a shower and got into bed while I cleaned up in the bathroom (major task, all over the place) but then I noticed his skin was very red and lots of hives were covering his whole body. I quickly gave him a fexofenadine and rang 111.
In the meantime, DH went outside and I could hear him getting in the car. I opened the bedroom window to shout to tell him not to take the car away as I might have to get DS to hospital. He grumbled about it and said he'd just go and get the bus. Bearing in mind he could see DS was not well, I thought he was just planning a quick trip to the shop, nothing else, but when he said he was going to "get the bus in" I knew that meant he was going into town for one of his many gigs or whatever he does. And off he went. 111 said they'd get a doctor to call me in the next hour, and when I got the call, he told us to go to A&E.
So, and this is something else DH was well aware of, we also have a DS11 who would either now have to come with us to the hospital for god knows how long, or stay at home and I would have to find someone to come and look after him. Thankfully my brother and SIL said they could come, and so DS15 and I went off to A&E.
Got a text from brother at 11pm to say DH was now home so they would leave. We got home around 1am having been checked over and told that the fexofenadine had solved the problem, but to keep an eye out for any secondary reactions. All very tiring and stressful, and when I eventually got to bed, I had the joy of snoring to contend with so I ended up downstairs on the sofa.
Brother texted me this morning to see how DS was (nothing from DH, I might add) and said that when DH came in last night, there was no "thanks so much for coming, I'm so sorry you had to come, maybe I shouldn't have gone out." Oh no. Apparently he was all full of chat about how we've really enjoyed our family trips to the Lake District, that he's feeling much fitter for doing a few climbs, that we're all looking forward to a wedding coming up in the summer and a holiday in November. All the pretence of happy families when he just f*cks off to gigs or the cinema all the time. He's been out every night this week, including the night his son is in hospital. No contrition whatsoever. Either he's got a master's degree in manipulation making everyone thinks everything's champagne and roses and we have a lovely supportive relationship, or he's just a thick idiot. Am I overreacting thinking he should be ashamed of himself for choosing to go out??? He doesn't seem to see any problem in doing so. I've also taken a day off work today to look after DS, when he could have easily worked from home today. Nope, off he went this morning, not a word. I'm so conditioned to accept his ways, this feels like another thing that he just does. Should I be raging?