What is Rabies of a Marriage? Ch. 01

About the time they noticed me standing there, Marsha, white as a ghost, came running and crying down the hallway of the sleeper car, "Something's wrong with Mellissa, I can't get her to respond to me, please come help her Bill," she cried, never even noticing her husband and my wife, tangled up in the sleeper unit.

I left the door to the sleeper open, exposing them to passers by, and ran to the dome car where the kids were sitting watching the scenery roll by; Mellissa was pale, clammy and semi-conscious.

"Has she had her insulin, Marsha?" I asked.

"Yes, just like normal." She replied holding up the vial of Novolog to me.

"It's cloudy, Marsha," I said, "Look, It's no good." I took the vial and noticed that it was very cloudy and had sediment in the bottom, a sign that it had lost its efficacy.

"Do you have another vial of Novolog?" I asked her, "Also get her blood glucose monitor, let's check her sugars," I said.

The meter read that her sugars were over 480, she was in hyperglycemia, probably ketoacidosis too. The insulin, not being any good, had not been working, she'd been getting sicker and sicker and nobody had noticed.

Marsha brought another vial of the insulin, unopened, still in the box and handed it to me, "it's all I have with us, it should be more than enough for three weeks," she said.

I opened the box and it was no good, either. The insulin also was cloudy and must have come from the factory that way, or allowed to get too hot or too cold.

"You have no other insulin, then Marsha?" I asked.

"I brought two vials, Bill. That's two thousand units, more than enough for three weeks under any circumstances," she said with anguish.

"I'll have to give her some of mine then. But, I don't have enough for us both for ten days to get us to Vancouver," I said, "especially since we need to give her so much to get her back to normal now. Do you think 80 units will be enough for this initial bolus?" I asked her.

"That is a big dose, I've never had to give her that much," Marsha worried.

"She's over 480 Marsha, we need to get her sugars down," I said.

Pete and Melody rushed up about that time, looking sheepish as could be.

"Did you get all the blood cleaned up?" I spat at them.

"Pete, I am going to save your daughter's life, you cheating bastard. Not because of you, but in spite of you." I said, not waiting for their answer.

Melody, Pete and Marsha watched as I pinched Mellissa's lower belly and injected my own insulin into Mellissa. She was a sick little girl.

"What are you talking about?" Marsha asked.

Melody and Pete were standing there in total embarrassment.

"Our spouses have been lovers for 12 years or more, Marsha. I just caught them fucking when you were running up to tell me about Mellissa. They were in our sleeper going at it," I told everyone within earshot.

Melody started crying and Pete withered at Marsha's glare. Mellissa was still comatose, unstable and there was no way of doing more for her at the moment with what I had available.

I asked for her glucose meter again and took another reading after 15 minutes. She was slowly descending, it was 414. I took her reading again in 30 minutes it was 288 and then again 30 minutes later, it was 160. She was conscious again, but cranky and scared, weak and tired.

"I'm not sure I have enough test strips, Bill if we keep testing her every hour. I only brought about 75," Marsha worried, "We usually only test 4 times a day."

In spite of the infidelity of my best friend and my wife, Mellissa, my treacherous partner's daughter was the most important issue of the moment. The most worrisome thing was that I didn't have enough insulin for us both for 10 days. Now, the test strips also became an issue. I only had what I needed for my own use, but it was essential that we keep a close watch on and control of Mellissa's sugar levels. She was brittle at the moment and may continue to be until we could get medical help.

"Make sure and see that she drinks a lot of water, we'll have to use my test strips when you run out. Let's try to get and keep her stable and see where we're at." I instructed.

She is the most critically ill, being a type 1 diabetic. Her body produces no insulin, or cannot process what she does make, and is totally dependent on external insulin.

I am a type 2 diabetic, and while my body produces 'some' insulin it isn't enough. My weight and sedentary lifestyle were my culprits, for sure. I decided that I had to forego full doses to make sure she got enough to get her safely to the end of our trip.

I tried to calculate what she'd need. Her mom said she normally took about 50 units a day of the short acting insulin. With the 80 I already gave her she'd need almost 600 units of what I had on hand, and I only had about 900 units. I usually take around 70 units per day. I had started the trip with a full vial plus one third of another. But, I'd taken the partial vial and a little of the new one, then gave Mellissa 80 units. That's how I figured I had about 900 units left, and we needed about 1200-1300 units between us to get us to Vancouver. We were in the middle of the Canadian wilderness and had over 9 days of cross-country travel left.

I'd have to cut my doses to about half or a little less, to make sure she had extra in case she needed it. This was going to be painful. I could end up pretty sick myself here.

To make things even more tense, we had only the two sleepers between the two families and nowhere else to go, except the dining car or the dome car. It was quite the dilemma not only for me, but also for Melody and Pete.

I stopped talking to Pete and Melody. I just never said a word directly to them. I talked to the kids and I spoke some to Marsha. We went to bed that night and I could hear and feel her masturbating next to me, crying and suffering terribly, but I had no sympathy, I had been betrayed and I knew it'd been going on ever since I'd known her. She could have learned to use a dildo, or get some medical help, or, hey, how about talk to me?

Pete, my so called best friend was even worse to me, in my mind. The two of them carried on behind my back. If there was a time to seek a solution to her problem that had years to present itself, now wasn't it, and it wasn't with my best friend twelve years earlier, either. Now, in the middle of nowhere, stuck together, I was going to ride this into the ground and them with it.

If needed, I'd do my best to pound sand up Pete's ass. The trouble was, he was probably capable of beating me. I'd never be able to get the better of him with the tactic of surprise, because he'd now be on alert, I'm sure. So, the element of surprise might not be that easy to come by.

Melody was miserable. Caught in the act after having admitted to me at home and in the throes of her 'disease', if that is what it should be called, she couldn't get me to deal with her. She was afraid to see Pete alone again, Marsha was furious with her; she was adrift and alone with no obvious remedy.

Well, Melody found a remedy, leave it to her; the conductor. He was a portly, kind, black man of sixty or so, and he had his own berth on the train. Melody found it and him in it and introduced him to a menstruating, highly aroused white woman who liked to fuck. I'm not sure the man ever was right after that encounter.

I followed her the next night as she left our sleeper, the train lulling everyone as it trundled down the track, everyone but her...and me. When she left the car, I left the sleeper. When she walked through the next car, I went into it, from the other end, following. When I couldn't see her, I knew she was somewhere in the car I was in. I just opened each compartment until I found them.

She was already impaled on his cock and grinding hard on the sleepy black man. She opened her eyes, looking at me and never stopped. I stood and I watched a moment, incredulous; the conductor looked up at me and actually paled, fearing for his life. I stepped into his little apartment, put my hands under Melody's armpits and yanked her off the man. Then, I dragged her back to our car, she whimpering as we went.

When that old conductor saw the blood on himself in the morning, I am sure he'd freak out. I took Melody back to our room and used my belt to tie her hand and arm to our bed. She'd not leave this bed without me, and I wasn't going to touch her. She'd have to tough this one out.

The next morning, there was some sort of mechanical malfunction with one of the diesel train locomotives. They announced that we'd make an unscheduled stop in Banff for repairs, expecting the wait would be one to two days. At least we could get the insulin crisis averted, and Mellissa to medical attention, but I also decided on something that would scorch the earth of two families.

With the four of us seated together in the dining car, Pete, Marsha, Melody and me, I laid out an ultimatum.

"One of two things is going to happen here in Banff," I said. "Either both Pete and Melody get off here and find their own way back to Denver, or I do." Their eyes widened, their mouths open, breathing shallow.

"Bill, don't be stupid. There is no need for this," Pete begged.

"Oh, honey please I'm so sorry, don't do this," came Melody's reply.

Marsha never said a word, she just looked at me with a mixture of, 'don't leave me with them' and 'I wish I could go with you.' But because of Mellissa, unsure travel arrangements might not be wise, and she needed constant monitoring. They could get the supplies they needed in Banff, go to the clinic and have a doctor treat her, but getting through the rest of the trip would be tense.

"I have a DNA sample of Bradley and I'm going to check him for paternity, whether or not I am his father. More than that, my days as part of you two's, and my unwilling, triumvirate of monthly pleasure is ended. I'm through with you both. Our partnership, both of you hear me, our partnership is cancelled from this moment forward." I was yelling as I finished, the veins in my neck sticking out, my fists clenched and white, the lips of my mouth were dry and thin, I was in fight or flee mode and do or die it would be! I had become enraged and out of control with anger, insult and the deep sense of betrayal.

Pete rose from the table and I swung at him, grazing his chin and knocking him off his feet, but not really hurting him. Melody started to stand and I cocked my fist at her, ready to smash her face if she stood all the way. She sat back down and avoided a closed fist, but I also avoided sure jail time.

Pete stood back up, out of the range of my swing, but I attacked him with a vengeance, rushing at him and hitting his chest with my fists, missing his face. He was the better man and he had me on the ground in a heartbeat, holding me down.

I could hear Melody crying and the whole train car was disrupted. Two or three men helped Pete contain me, telling me, "calm down, buddy, what's the problem?"

"He's fucking my wife, that's the problem. Let me up and I'll leave the train," I said.

Melody cried, "Oh, no, Bill...please don't leave. Bill, please."

The three men, Pete included, eased their hold on me. I slowly got off the floor, went to the sleeper, them following me closely, and got a suitcase. I packed my essentials and stepped off the train, walking away without looking back, seething and breathing utterings of hateful vitriol.

Neither Pete nor Melody had ever seen me so livid, so animated. Like a vicious trapped beast, I am sure they realized that I was a very present threat to them both aboard that train.

I was able to catch a tour bus to Calgary and then flew into Vancouver and on to Denver direct. I was home in two days. They had at least eight more, maybe nine with the connecting flight home, depending how long repairs took in Banff.

I sent the swab from inside Bradley's cheek to the lab. I listed my dental practice including my half of the building and equipment for sale in a professional journal for dentists. The journal also has a strong presence online, so the available business was instantly listed worldwide to any dentist looking to make the move immediately. I paid all outstanding credit cards, utility bills, mortgage payment on the house and car payments out of our existing checking account, which nearly depleted it. I took half the savings, half the certificates of deposit and all my belongings and got ready to move out of our marital home when they returned. She had a credit card in just her name. I did not cancel that one, but I cancelled everything else for which we had joint ownership.

I hired a lawyer and had him draw up divorce papers, which were to be served upon her return home. I also had the lawyer prepare a lawsuit against Pete to dissolve the partnership, with breach of trust, perfidy, alienation of affection and whatever the lawyer could find to support my claims against him for sleeping with my wife over the twelve years we'd been together, effectively breaking up our marriage.

I spent the eight days before their arrival back in Denver cleaning up all my messes, accounts and business. I received the DNA tests on the day they were to arrive back in Denver from the trip. Bradley was not my son.

As hard on the boy as it would be, I was innocent of wrongdoing, and I was done paying the price for Melody's and Pete's indiscretions. The boy had to be Pete's, if Melody's claim were true, that 'only he and I had bedded her since our engagement.' Bradley knew Pete well, Mellissa would be his sister, Marsha his step mother, if she decided to stick it out. He would be fine. As fine as any poor bastard could be.

Like I had said, "The partnership ends here."

In my mind, the onus of support was out of my life, off my shoulders and I just needed to finish the sale of the practice, the building, the equipment and move on.

The offices were still shut down for summer vacation, and it was only July 16, so I had over two weeks before patient issues resumed. I'd thought of just moving my practice, with patients, to another location in Denver. However, after weighing the pros and cons, I just wanted away from Melody and Pete. I never needed to lay my eyes on either one again.

Truthfully, I was so humiliated, hurt and demeaned by Pete's and Melody's treacherous betrayal that I just had no will to resume life as it had been. I should have been more responsible to my patients...those were mistakes I made.

In my meager defense, I was swamped with emotional distress and my natural instinct to run away overcame my moral duty to stay and fight it out. I am a wimp, but I was not going to suffer their abuse any longer. I'd kill or be killed first.

I'd been humiliated by becoming aware of Melody fucking Pete for years; then again on the train after she knew how seriously I was taking this. I was humiliated on the train by Pete in that fight, facing the train's conductor, humiliated at every turn, in my mind. I just wanted relief from the pain; the pain of humiliation, the pain of anger, the pain of hatred and bitterness. I was emotionally unstable, I am sure, but I knew that to preserve anything of myself, I needed to extricate myself. I needed to let them work out their own problems, with me no part of any of it. I was in self-preservation mode, animalistic with rage. I was a danger to her, to Pete and probably even to myself.

Some might prevail on me to help Melody. 'She has a medical issue,' they may say. I reasoned about that back and forth and decided that she'd had it from before she knew me. I knew she'd had gynecological visits several times. It would have to have been a subject, and even if she didn't mention her condition to her doctor, she was dishonest with me from early on, before our marriage.

She had options, lots of them through the years, but I was done helping her; it was now time for my self-preservation.

A Chinese lady once said to me, when I became angry with someone intruding on my massage, "Why do you hurt yourself with anger over someone else's mistake?" I needed to step back, take stock and calm down or I would lose myself in this rage.

I got an offer on my practice before we opened back up August 1. I had finally decided to keep my patients and employees served while I was in secret negotiations to sell. I returned to work, never talking to Pete or Melody, just staying at my apartment and going to work.

The divorce was in the works. Pete had been served his papers; me suing for the dissolution of the partnership with damages, plus back child support. It would be up to him to prove that he wasn't the father, with Melody's claim that he and I were her only partners during the time of Bradley's conception. Nothing more was being dealt with by me, other than negotiation of the sale of my practice and regular, ongoing patient care.

I sold it, finally, in September. I took less that I could have gotten if I'd have wanted to wait it out. But, I did net a small profit. I had to notify the divorce court about my new net worth, including the proceeds of the sale of the business. Fine, I did it. 'Let the fucking continue,' I thought.

Melody made several attempts to talk to me; I refused every one of them. I had Bradley's DNA results inserted into the divorce paper servings so she knew about that.

By the first of the year, I was extricated entirely from the dental practice and the building. The divorce was not final, but it was rapidly approaching finality, in late January, which would complete the mandatory six months minimum. I just gave her half of everything, she didn't ask for alimony and Brad isn't my child, so there was no child support due there.

The partnership lawsuit and paternity claim still loomed and probably would take a couple of years or so to settle. I was going to hurt him as much as I could, so I didn't care how much time it hung over his head; it was worth it to me.

I only had a license to practice dentistry in Colorado, so I moved to a small town on the Northeastern Plains, Sterling. It is a town of ten thousand folks, about two hours northeast and would suit me just fine. It presented a lot slower lifestyle. I'd have to start up a new practice, go slow, retrain new staff and acclimate myself to my new home, but I had enough of a nest egg to weather most storms that could come my way for a few years, and I was more than willing to do what I had to do to make this work.

Our divorce was finally granted. I never had to talk to Melody, though she wanted to and tried to several times.

To this day I haven't seen Pete. When we ultimately go to court I'll have to face him then, but I am more than willing to air my dirty laundry with him in public, so I have no thought or worry there.

His attorney did try and settle, but I just told my lawyer, "No settlement, I want a judgment, period." I wanted my day in court, to expose his treachery as a friend, how he went into a business partnership with me, knowing that that would tie my wife and him together, making their trysts appear innocent and more likely. I was after money, sure, but I wanted his actions to face the light of day.

I never talked to Marsha again, either. I wondered how Mellissa was doing so many times but I didn't want to risk Pete being around or him tapping the lines, potentially jeopardizing my suit against him, so I let it hang.

I'd begun to build a good equity; equity in my practice, the building, equipment and our home. I walked away from it all, disgusted, humiliated and furious.

The issues are still unresolved, somewhat but I am not unhappy now. I am building a new patient load and I have a few friends from around my neighborhood. I don't date too often, but I do occasionally take a twenty five year old hottie out to dinner. She is a patient and that's how I met her.