The Decision

When I came home from work one day, and my dear hubby casually said, "I've decided to go ahead and donate a kidney to Fred (not his real name)," I went postal on him. Note the way he said it, as if it had been discussed and was simply awaiting his decision. No one asked me what I thought! Well, I had plenty to say on the topic. We were in dire financial straits and could hardly afford the expenses involved. We own a small business and I work full time. The business would collapse if he were to have complications, and we could not survive without my income. Who would take care of our disabled granddaughter during all of this? Who would take care of our pets? Who would get hubby to all the pre-testing appointments, given that we only have one car and I use it to get to work? What on earth was he thinking?! Of course, he told me he wouldn't do it if I really didn't want him to. Now how fair is that? My choices were to risk our income and lives, or sentence Fred to death, my choice. Damn, I was mad!