She had to sit down. There was no other way. The words he had said to her took her by surprise. It was one insult on top of other insults. The accusations were unfair because they were untrue. She had no idea why he was in such a bad mood. When she called 911 almost  at midnight, she did it to save his life. The man had been complaining about feeling weak and tired. She wanted noting bad to happen to him. She had stayed by his side until the mid morning hours. Then she had to go. The following day, when she went to see him in his hospital room, she wished for a smile, a semi-warm greeting, something to show that he cared in some way. As he talked about her not bringing him this and that (some of the things he had asked for) the tone of his voice got angrier and angrier. She wanted to leave the room, yet she felt sorry for him. The doctors must have given him bad news. Even so, that did not excuse his behavior. What had she done wrong? She didn’t know; she didn’t understand. Now she was tired. The pain in her gut was hard and harsh, as hard and harsh as his words had been.


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