Tales From the Front by Cheryl Lavin

Four weeks ago, my husband broke his ankle when he slipped on our icy driveway. He had to have surgery to put in four screws and a plate.

There's no dietary reason why his bones would be prone to breaking. My husband is a surgeon who watches what he eats and exercises daily. He doesn't have "fragile bones" because of soda pop.

But according to my mother-in-law and sister-in-law, the reason he broke his ankle was poor nutrition and too much soda — both my fault. One is a retired nurse and the other is a dental hygienist, so they obviously know more than my husband, the surgeon, or so I was told the day of his surgery — for eight hours!

I've never had the best relationship with my In-laws, but I've always tried to do the right thing by keeping them informed about the family as far as health issues were concerned. They've never been helpful or even nice.

One of our children is disabled, and when we were going through the diagnosis process, they told me and anyone who would listen that the disability was my fault. Another child has a chronic, life-threatening illness. Again, my fault for not recognizing how serious the situation was. Remember, my husband — their son and brother — is a physician!

They criticize but never help. They've never taken a child to therapy or stayed with a child in the hospital for a few hours so I could run home and take a shower.

You would think I would have learned my lessons as far as sharing but, oh no, I didn't. I thought the right thing to do was to tell my mother-in-law about her son's surgery.

I spent six hours at the hospital — where my husband was formerly the chief of surgery — listening to her tell me we don't eat correctly and that's why he broke his ankle.

She couldn't understand why the nurses, techs and volunteers talked to me, not her. She made a stink about me having his medical power of attorney.

When we got home, she chastised my kids who have moved back, temporarily, to help for the next month or so for not doing enough to prepare the house. One of the kids picked up his prescriptions and the other picked up some take out for dinner, all while helping out with their disabled brother while we were at the hospital.

I have been berated, by phone, now for weeks. I shouldn't have let him go back to work so soon. I should do more for him. I shouldn't sleep in our bed because I'm not letting him really rest. I'm afraid to leave him alone at night, since he occasionally needs pain medication or help getting in and out of bed and needs his ankle elevated with pillows. I sleep only a few hours a night, at the very least I should be able to sleep in my own bed.

I've tried to do the right thing as far as his family is concerned but no longer. It's not part of my job description to be a punching bag. My husband's accident was not the first time I've had to go through a gauntlet of criticism, but it will be the last.

Next, how her husband feels about his family.

Do your in-laws interfere in your relationship? Send your tale, along with your questions, problems and rants to cheryllavinrapp@gmail.com. And check out my new website askcheryl.net.

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