This evening I was building furniture in another room. One of the parts fell, hit me in the face/mouth and clattered to the floor.
OH asks from the other room - are you okay? I said no.
He walks into the room, I'm crouched on the floor holding my face (with tears streaming down my face) and explained that it had hit me in the mouth.
He stood for a second, then our child came in the room and he left with her.
AIBU to have expected bit more compassion? He didn't even come in the fucking room properly, didn't ask if he could help or to look and assess if there was any real damage etc.