Hugh and I had fun when we first met. He was lighthearted, had folksy charm and good looks for the ’70s. We laughed at the same jokes and liked the same movies, i.e. “The Life of Brian” and “A Fish Call Wanda” among other Monty Python spoofs. Our friends came from similar lower middle-class backgrounds who were high academic achievers. We all had healthcare professions such as nursing, med school, Special Ed teaching, UT Med School secretary. Hugh weeded me out of a few other young nurses. He dated 1 LVN, Lynette, who later dated Dr. Pate. Hugh proposed to me on Halloween evening by planning a scavenger hunt which ended in a marriage proposal written in lipstick on a mirror. How fun and romantic it was at that time. We married December 20, 1975, in Ft. Worth, his parents’ Baptist church. His mother planned the wedding and was very excited in her own under stated, non-emotional way. Happy Day. He finished Med School, and I worked at the Woman’s Hospital of Texas in my first love of women’s healthcare. I went to a graduate program to be a Nurse Practitioner in Family Planning at Baylor College of Medicine.
I experienced the first of what I learned was a way of betrayal Hugh had for me. I later saw this was how his family worked. We were at a Family Practice meeting in El Paso. It was a huge event and a chance for Hugh to find potential practices to join. I was talking with some friends in the crowd when he got my attention to follow him to meet some doctors who wanted to meet a Nurse Practitioner. [This was 1976 when NPs were new in American health care. Many older physicians saw us as a threat as though we wanted to take their patients away. I quickly thought this was an opportunity to ‘spread the word’ that RN, NP was a qualified addition to providing healthcare to more Americans.] Hugh led me through the thick crowd to 3 tall men in suits who looked down at me without a word. Hugh introduced them to me. I politely extended my hand to shake and say “Hello.” 2 of them responded, the other didn’t bother. Hugh then muttered something to me and darted away. Thinking about these docs wanted to talk, I stayed. They didn’t say a word but looked grimly at me. Some time passed, I turned to search for my husband who was having a good time with another group. I tried to talk with him, “What was that?” “They didn’t talk to me.” Hugh was not responsive. I didn’t know what I didn’t understand. At that time, I was still unfamiliar with the cold shoulder of matrimony. The ‘I’m not talking to you’ for some unknown reason game.
I had been brought up on parental arguments, talking it through, sometimes yelling. I had also experienced the gossip/stab you behind your back of girls in school. This was another world of ‘guess why I’m mad at you’, I disapprove of you but don’t want to talk about it with you.’
As time went by there were big issues in our small family that I “gave in” for the betterment of my husband’s career. And I told him that I would do it his way because I wanted to support him. And I told him I wanted him to support me. He never answered back to that later statement.
I wanted to stay in our neighborhood near the Medical Center where he could drive straight to Memorial hospital while I would be close to RN, NP jobs as well as childcare. No, he wanted to live in Sugarland. OK, we bought a house in Sugarland. For me there were few neighbors, no one like me. No childcare. No bookstore or hair salon. There was 1 traffic light at that time. Hugh left the house at 6:45 am each weekday, returning after 7 pm. He told me he was seeing patients till 7. I was proud to know he was dedicated to his patients. But I was lonely.
His parents thought I should work in his office. “Wouldn’t it be nice to see the family doctor and his wife taking care of the neighbors?” they inquired. Hugh told me that his partners (Bob, the guy who asked me if our new house had vibrating doorknobs.”) decided no spouses in the office! No exceptions!
A year later the new addition to the medical staff brought his wife, Ami to the office to “do the books.” So here was a woman, new to this practice, who was given intimate access to the business records. But I couldn’t help it in any way. Then Bob finally talked to an ICU nurse about marrying him, but she stipulated that she would keep her hospital job; at least that’s what she told me.
Eventually, Hugh wanted to leave this group of docs and open his own office. He picked a prime piece of real estate in Sugarland and built out an office; all without the help of his wife. Nothing about his office for families as a Family Practitioner had the handy work of his wife. Not the Patient Education, not the Women’s Healthcare, Prenatal Education, New Baby Care. Nothing had anything to do with me except our jointly owned money. He didn’t want me around at all, in any way.
It was OK if I stopped in from time to time but for a few minutes. His loyal nurse watched us.
During this time Hugh said he would join me in writing a column for a local newspaper. But he did not. He said he would give a presentation concerning anesthesia to the childbirth classes I taught but, after the first disastrous lecture which bored the class to death, he didn’t return or offer to assist.
Let me back-step a moment. Part of my identity was my professional involvement in women’s health, childbirth education and healthcare. I’ve been a Labor and Delivery nurse, a Family Planning Nurse Practitioner, Childbirth Educator. [I melded that philosophy of womanhood in with motherhood and mothering my 2 children.] Hugh knew this was part of me when he decided he wanted to marry me. Yet, he denied all these attributes and abilities. He never once wanted to talk about my interests.
When he entered the Memorial Family Practice Residency he stepped backward into time. Those people were (and still are) 25 years behind the Tx Med Center in Patient Care Practice. They care nothing about the contemporary woman in America. ……. More than that, Hugh was no longer interested in me. I don’t think he disliked me but the ‘like’ was gone. He didn’t care. And I found out why.
One Christmas we attended the hospital party where I met a few Labor and Delivery nurses that worked with Hugh. A young, attractive nurse introduced herself to tell me how much she enjoyed Hugh and the talks they all had in the nurses’ lounge. “Oh?” I politely asked. She described the last 3 years of Hugh sitting in the L&D nurses’ lounge from 4:30 or 5 to 7, 3 evenings each week. They talked and had a good time with nurses going in and out of the room on their dinner breaks. [How nice for him; he had a Haram on the 4th floor.] So, that’s why he had nothing to say to me, he said it all to them! He was “talked out” by the time he got home where I dutifully had his dinner ready. I attempted to ask him about this female discussion group, but he sidestepped it, and I never bothered again. What was the use? He was too good at ignoring me or being superior to me to respond.
I did put 2 & 2 together after this incident which led me to bring up the night Jessica was born. This attempted conversation was 2 years after the fact, but I was busy with other things in my mind such as raising 2 babies, etc. The setting: Sept. 21, 1979, Memorial hospital Labor room 2, 10:30 pm. I was taken to the hospital after my water leaked at 38 weeks. I knew I would meet Jessica Anne that night! Hugh told me Donna was my nurse; she was the best nurse. She gave me a gown and told me to change and get in bed, very military-like. She did the routine admission, asked about contractions which were every 3 minutes, hung an IV but didn’t begin the infusion so that I’d “be more comfortable.” Hugh was allowed in, and he stood beside my bed as if nothing much happened. We giggled about leaving Matthew at Linda’s to play with Kimberly for the next day. Vardaman was waiting anxiously in the waiting room. Donna came in and told Hugh that I would be her only patient that night (leaving me to believe they expected my work to be long, but I expected a short labor like the first one.) I told Donna that my first labor was 4 hours, and she responded as though she were talking to a child, “Well, we’ll see how long the 2nd is.” She stepped back to lean against the wall of the tiny room. Hugh stepped beside her and began taking in a low tone; I couldn’t understand them. My contractions continued, strengthened, ouch! I was timing them while they talked and gestured to each other. Time passed and I began to wonder if I should call Hugh over to my side or wait for him to finish his conversation. Surely, they both knew that the father was supposed to support the laboring mother! Should I interrupt? Then my water broke and flooded my bed. I was astonished when Donna said she wouldn’t change the pad because it would “just get wet again.” I protested, never having seen such an inconsiderate poor nursing decision before. I asked again for a clean pad to sit on in bed. [Does it matter if she must change it a few times for my comfort, so I’m not sitting in a puddle of cold amniotic fluid?] The twosome returned to conversation; an hour went by; then I began to feel pelvic pressure; a sure sign the fetus had descended into the birth canal. I interrupted Tom and Jerry to say I felt pressure. She denied that I was feeling pressure. WHAT? I didn’t believe what I just heard. She didn’t take a step toward me or give me a 2nd glance. Hugh was non-reactive. I was alone in a room with these 2. I repeated it twice, then she gave in and stepped over to check me.
What I already knew, I was dilated to 7 cm and “moving.” Donna announced this and finally moved into first gear! She started my IV, asked Hugh to leave the room which he did [why would I need him?] Called my doctor who had to drive in from Rosenberg and began to prepare me for delivery. Donna made Hugh unnecessary from here on out.
My contractions quickly increased in intensity, sharp like a hundred knives, every 3 minutes lasting 1 minute. OMG it was too fast for me to keep up! Donna was doing her paperwork and who-knows-what, Hugh was unavailable, I put my hand up to my mouth as another contraction peaked like ice picks in the belly. Donna saw me and snapped, “Put your hand down and scream” she demanded of me. Good God! I was in another world of chastising childbirth. No, I didn’t scream.
I was in the delivery room naked, cold lying on a hard table. I asked for a blanket. In unison I heard, “NO.” Hugh who was beside me then said that I couldn’t have a “blanket because they needed to see if the baby comes.” DAAAAHHHH!! Cover my shoulders and abdomen. No. They rolled me over and strapped my wrists into metal cuffs so that I wouldn’t be so crazy-with-joy and touch the sterile drapes when my baby was born. These people belong in the last century along with Mickey Finns.
Nancy walked into the room as Jessica peeked out to see the world. All was well.
Nancy kept her promise and provided a Margarita for me afterwards.
You’ve probably guessed that Hugh, a Family Practice resident, was required to work the next day to see patients in the F.P. Clinic. That’s how seriously UT considered Family Practice principles.
I was busy physically and busy mentally. I couldn’t devote the mental effort to understanding what each nuance meant. What did all these people have to do with me? Why did Hugh prefer any of them to me? How did Donna interest him or excite him that I didn’t any longer. I’m not implying sex. I don’t know about his extra marital activities, if any. Though I know that liaisons among hospital types are common and easy. I do recall that he would come home tired, mentally unavailable to me, he would give the kids some attention and was obliged to read a bedtime story to one of them. He wanted sex without communication though he required me to say, “I love you.” Such a disappointment. I wanted a friend.
He wanted a human blow-up doll.
After a year he came home with a great idea; let’s join the Masters Swim Team in Sugarland. His friend was a swimmer, and it would be good exercise. I reluctantly joined him in our slow beginning. We were each poor swimmer. Hugh didn’t progress and quit (same as he had done with skiing.) I finally caught on to the correct stroke and leg rhythm and continued to swim with my new friends. We were a team. Of course, gossip spread that we were more than friends, which was hot gossip for the town doctor. I ignored it to my regret. But I don’t know what I could have done to prevent the gossip when the town shrew decides to spread stories, no matter who it harms. She lived across the street and enjoyed the attention it brought her way. The bottom line to this tragedy is this: Husband can have his own life as he defines it, Wife must live within the lines or suffer the consequences. I had the consequences and Hugh ended up with a 2nd wife that scared our children and made him into a whining laughingstock failed physician. There were no winners.