Get those stitches out and get to the stove, you lazy woman…

The white ceiling of the hospital room had given way to the familiar ceiling of her bedroom. Emily carefully turned over, the fresh stitches immediately making themselves known.

She had an hour to go until her next dose of painkillers. The surgery had been successful, but recovery would take time. “No physical strain for at least two weeks,” she recalled the surgeon’s words.

She’d been discharged just yesterday. Michael had stopped by for half an hour, driven her to the apartment, and left right away. “Look, I’ve got an important meeting. You know how it is, work doesn’t wait,” he’d said, not even asking how she was feeling. The apartment was spotless. Emily gave a weak smile.

Before her hospitalization, she’d scrubbed every floor. Back then, every movement had sent pain shooting through her spine, but she’d pushed through. The phone rang, and Emily picked it up.

“Honey, how are you? How are you feeling?” Her mother’s voice trembled with worry. “I’m okay, Mom. It hurts a bit, but it’s manageable. I’ll come over tomorrow to help you, sweetheart.”

“No, Mom, you don’t have to. Michael will get upset, you know he doesn’t like it.” “I already bought a bus ticket,” Linda Johnson interrupted firmly. “I’ll be there by noon.” Emily didn’t have the energy to argue. After three years of constant pain, there was finally hope for a normal life.

Three years ago, she’d lunged to catch her mother-in-law, Patricia, who’d slipped. Patricia had stayed upright, but Emily had fallen and injured her spine. “How do you manage to fall so clumsily? Goodness!” was all Patricia had said…