Which Shall It Be? Compazine or Zofran?


I know that I sound like a broken record, but my face glows red like a beacon at sea whenever I look back on how I did that humiliating ‘pick-me!” dance when my husband dumped me after decades of marriage. Lord have mercy!

As if the songs and dance routines weren’t enough, I rounded out my tragic comedy by throwing in all those tearful pleadings, blubberings, and my sickening confessions of my undying loved for him … Something you should NEVER! … EVER! … do if you’ve been kicked to the curb!

Public Warning

You may need to place your emesis buckets firmly on your lap, and wrap your arms around them tightly as I continue. I have a feeling that you just might need them before this post is over.

Everybody ready? … Okay … Here’s just how stupid I was:

  • Like the idiot I was, I assured my departed hubby that I had faith in him. [Queasy feeling beginning.]
  • Like the idiot I was, I assured him that—despite leaving me for another woman—I still believed he was a good person. [Stomach contents churning and rumbling.]
  • Like the idiot I was, I told him that I felt his bizarre behavior was because he’d simply ‘lost his way’. [Breaking into a cold sweat … mouth doing that tell-tale, right-before-you-vomit watering thing.]
  • Like the idiot I was, I told him that he simply must’ve flirted around too long with temptation and in a moment of human weakness, his carnal desires had taken him over. [We have launch. Violent projectile vomiting in process!]

My sincere apologies to you nearsighted folks who may have been leaning forward toward your monitor and to those of you who may have been staring intently into your phone screens. Don’t worry, it’ll wash off. However, you might want to grab some Febreze so as not to be wafting that Eau-De-Emesis aroma for the rest of the day. Sorry.

Connecting The Dots That Were Never There

It comes down to this … people see what they want to see. I know I did! But in my defense, my false hope was based [at least partially] on how husband had been so extremely religious [for quite a few years] prior to his ‘fall from grace’ and ‘indiscretion’. That is, if you define religious by how many times a person warms the pews at church.

Mr. Cheater Pants and I both attended church three times a week for decades before all of this happened.

But like they say … ‘Going to church doesn’t make you a Christian any more than going to McDonald makes you a hamburger.’ 

Too Many Hits From The Tank

I hyperventilated every time I got even close to looking at the reality that was staring me in the face. And the more I hyperventilated, the more snugly I tightened the mask over my nose and mouth. Each day that went by, I inhaled deeper and deeper from the Hopium tank that I kept beside my bed—guarding it with my life.

I was a force to be reckoned with—stubborn with a capital S. I refused to let anyone rain on my parade. He was coming back. Period. [I’m so glad that he didn’t! … But I digress.]

I have since learned the important lesson that faith and hope are two very different things. The faith I thought I had was nothing more than stubborn hope. I hoped against hope that the love of my life had simply experienced a huge lapse of judgment.

And because I wanted it so very badly, I deluded myself into thinking that what we were going through was nothing more than a trial to test our faith and build character in both of us. I know … pitifully grasping at straws.

A Very Self Aware Narcissist

I vividly remember the last time I told him that I believed in him. I stood there explaining how I would always believe that in his heart he was really a good person. His response was to laugh in my face and say:

“Yeah, and you’re stupid too! I am NOT a good person! Someday you’re going to find this out, and when you do—you’ll end up hating me. You’re going to wake up one day and discover that I am NOT that ‘good person’ that you want so desperately for me to be.”

To add to additional dramatic emphasis to that statement, he picked up The Bible that was laying nearby, furrowed his brow—and with a half-sad/half-angry countenance—threw it down on the floor and left. That was the last time I saw him.

Well, he was right. I did wake up, and I did figure it out.

You looked like an angel … Walked like an angel
Talked like an angel … But I got wise

You’re the devil in disguise, Oh yes you are
The devil in disguise

You fooled me with your kisses, You cheated and you schemed
Heaven knows how you lied to me, You’re not the way you seemed

You looked like an angel … Walked like an angel
Talked like an angel … But I got wise
You’re the devil in disguise, Oh yes you are
The devil in disguise

I thought that I was in heaven …But I was sure surprised
Heaven help me, I didn’t see, the Devil in your eyes

You looked like an angel …Walked like an angel
Talked like an angel …But I got wise

You’re the devil in disguise, Oh yes you are
The devil in disguise

You’re the devil in disguise, Oh yes you are
The devil in disguise. Oh yes you are
The devil in disguise

Songwriters: Bernie Baum / Bill Giant / Florence Kaye
(You’re The) Devil in Disguise lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Raleigh Music Publishing

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