The Wrong One Got the Tumor

I have an amazing friend who is one of those fun people you always look forward to talking to. We met in a new mom support group after I had Rachael and she had her son. Two years ago, she had twins who were born with issues. She is one of the strongest people I know, because having three children under the age of 3 with two of them being sick would absolutely break me. She slept on the floor of the twins' room for nearly the entire first year of their lives to make sure she would be there if one of them stopped breathing in the middle of the night.

Unfortunately, I haven't gotten to the worse part yet. My dear friend gets through the first grueling year and a half with her twins, and manages to line up the treatment they need to improve. Her husband begins opting for more out-of-town projects for work, and one day comes home after three weeks in Barcelona (which got him out of a week of three kids with croup), and tells her he's had an Epiphany. He says his life hasn't been too much fun, and he's decided to start enjoying himself more. He joined a role playing club, a wine/dinner party group, and got himself a text message buddy. He travels three weeks a month, and doesn't call home for days. He holds my friend financially hostage and lives in a state where the divorce laws would leave her with next to nothing.

On top of everything, my friend is having surgery tomorrow morning to remove a tumor at the base of her brain. My mother died of a brain tumor, so this is hitting me very hard. I think due to the location and the fact that it's a completely different tumor, my friend will be okay, but I hate the idea of her having to record birthday messages to her children in case she doesn't make it. I hate it even worse that she is recording those messages alone, because her piece of shit husband is out gallivanting with some other chick having a fun life and not giving a fuck about his wife or three kids.

Where is the justice in a situation that holds a sick woman hostage in a mentally and financially abusive marriage? I'm glad I no longer live in the same state, because I'm not a violent person, but I would have beat the living crap out of her bastard husband by now, or at least helped her cut the brakes to his car or some other Soprano-like action that would rid her of him, yet leave her with benefits and insurance money.

It may be wrong of me to say, and something bad will probably happen to me, because of it, but I'm going to say it anyways, because it's the truth: the wrong person got the brain tumor. Now I'm going to go try to call my friend, give her some comforting words, and pray like hell as soon as I hang up the phone that I'm talking to her again by next week.