Gloom! Despair! and Agony! on me

Oh poppets, where to begin? It's been one thing after another. I'm usually one to roll with the punches, but I believe I may be down for the count. I have been thrown for a loop, or is it through a loop? I've been looped either way. I don't consider myself to be better than anyone else, or above anyone else. At least I don't think I do. But if I don't consider myself better than anyone, why do I feel the need to caveat the following story by telling you that we are upper middle class, hard working, law abiding, contributing members of society? That none of us has ever spent time in jail or has ever been charged with a crime? Because I do feel the need to point that out.

And I need to point that out because last week the state police rolled up in my driveway and took my husband to jail. Because of me. And I am so ashamed. And horrified, mortified, embarrassed, and any other adjective of that ilk that you can conjure. The look on his face when they cuffed him, cuffed him..my husband who has never raised his hand in anger to anyone, in handcuffs. I have never felt so helpless in my life. All those years of law school, trial law, striding confidently into the courtroom, fearing nothing. All for zip when it's someone you love getting pushed down into the backseat of a police car.

Two years ago I wrote a check as a deposit on a new insurance policy for our company. Let me emphasize that I printed, I signed, and I delivered this check. I also signed for the policy. I also own 100% of the company that owns the checking account that the check was drawn off of. I am the one who didn't verify that all checks had cleared before I changed banks. When the insurance company called me, I didn't follow up. When they turned it over to the police, I spoke with the officer handling the case. I asked him how to pay it without having to come in to the station. He said he would find out and get back to me. I didn't follow up. The result of my failure to follow up is my husband facing a felony charge of uttering. The result of my failure to follow up is my husband spending a night and half of a day in jail, jail, waiting to be arraigned for something he knows absolutely nothing about. He doesn't know what to plead, he doesn't know what he's being charged with. He knows absolutely nothing about a check for insurance because HE DIDN'T WRITE IT!

I begged those officers to double check the warrant. I explained that they had the wrong person. I pleaded with them to take me. I showed them my copy of the check with MY signature. I used all of my wiles and charms (there was cleavage involved) to no avail. They had their warrant and that was that. One thing I'm very grateful for is that Silas was not at home. That would have wrecked me. As it was, I spent the night in abject terror. How angry will he be? Will he leave me? Will he make me leave? Should I just pack now? Not very rational thoughts, but in the middle of the night, when your husband is in jail for something you did, reason tends to be scarce. And I do know that if the tables were turned, I would be one pissed off puppy. I would probably be petty enough to use it to my advantage, i.e.: What do you mean "What's for dinner??" I went to jail for you!

I got him bonded out at around 11am. I was waiting in the truck when he came out and I was so ashamed I couldn't look him in the eye. He got in and I braced myself for the well deserved smackdown I was sure was coming. He cracked a grin, gave me a wink, and said he wanted some breakfast. I was gobsmacked! You're not mad? I said. "No, they told me how hard you tried to get them to take you. I know it wasn't on purpose." Sigh. Now I feel worse. It would've been easier if he'd been livid. Round one is over.

Round two begins almost immediately. He bonded out on Friday morning. The paperwork said he'd have a preliminary hearing within twenty days. Monday evening the bondsman calls and says he missed his court date that morning. The magistrate put a capias out when he didn't show up. A capias is a warrant that sends you straight to jail with no bond to wait for your hearing, which can take up to, wait for it...twenty days! The bondsman was amazed that they got a hearing scheduled that quickly. I'm wondering about a little technicality called notice, otherwise known as letting someone know they have a court date. So off to the courthouse we go. Thankfully, the magistrate realized the error, rescinded the capias, and we went on our merry way. Poor Sam was so hyped up, the adrenaline had him shaking for an hour after we left. I didn't get quite so upset, but I wasn't the one looking at going back to jail either. There's a sentence I never thought I'd be typing! Round two and I'm still standing.

Round three has me on the mat, literally. When we left the courthouse, I noticed that my feet were burning, kind of an itchy burning. That afternoon while at the bank doing a wire transfer, my left palm was itching so bad I thought I'd dig right through it. Unfortunately the old "itchy palm means someones giving you some money" saying is a lie. By Tuesday night, my hands were so swollen and red that I couldn't close them. My feet looked like I dipped them in fire. These alarming symptoms were quickly moving up my legs and arms. The itching!! There are no words. I went to urgent care, where they asked me what chemical caused the burns! When I explained that I hadn't been in any chemicals and gave the sequence of symptoms, she determined it was an allergic reaction. To what, who knows? Maybe if I posted more than once a blue moon, I'd have a better recollection of my travels. My course of treatment was to be a shot of adrenaline to "break the reaction". Alrighty then, if you say so.
She proceeded to inject a liquid taken from the fiery depths of hell into my arm. Twenty minutes later, with my heart racing, my blood pressure up, and dizzy, she decides that it's helped a bit, but not enough. More adrenaline, stat! The other arm gets the liquid lava. Then the fun starts. Heart rate is irregular, blood pressure spikes, an ambulance is summoned. Apparently, I'm allergic to adrenaline! After much deliberation, it was decided that my allergic reaction was caused by my body being in such a state of "fight or flight" for the past five days. The adrenaline used to break the reaction exacerbated it. So I am, for now, down for the count. Don't count me out yet though.

And ten points for whoever can place the song reference in the title.