I was burning with a 102-degree fever when Patricia used our emergency key and walked into my bedroom without knocking. I could barely sit up, but she photographed me lying beneath the blankets and lectured me about how women of her generation still got up ouss and cared for their husbands, no matter how sick they were.
Ten minutes after she left, my phone buzzed. Patricia had posted the photo on Facebook, showing my tangled hair, swollen eyes, and medicine-covered nightstand. Her caption mocked me for “sleeping until noon.” Almost immediately, her friends began commenting about my laziness and how sorry they felt for my husband, Nathan.