Shaken

Shaken

Life has been pretty crazy the last few days. On friday I was at work being generally unproductive. Goofing off just a little when around noon I got a call from my brother saying that he just got a funny call from my dad saying that mom was on the brink of passing out and that he should make his way to the house post haste. I hung up with Dominic and called my house to hear my father in his usual panic induced arrogance and apathy. Trying to sound like he didn’t care but at the same time complaining that we weren’t there to help take care of my mom. I told him that Dom was on his way and would be there shortly. I asked to speak to my mom. Who sounded out of breath and tired. When we started talking, she was totally out of breath but while we were talking started to sound moreso normal. She explained to me that she was in the bathroom getting washed up and suddenly felt extremely light headed and her legs felt like cotton (as per her description) and she started to sweat profusley. The more I talked to her the more I didn’t want to be convinced that perhaps it was a stroke episode. I convinced myself more and more that she’d be fine and nothing was wrong.

My brother eventually got to the house and called me from his cell phone to tell me that he thought her extremities were very cold and she was sweating and looking unfocused. As he said that I heard her in the background asking to speak to me. Not to give the wrong impression of my mom… she’s a sweet woman and has a heart of gold – but she’s not like touchy feeley extra loving … and I’ve NEVER heard her “ask to speak to me”… then when she got on the phone, she was very lovey dovey… That’s when I started to worry. My brother took the phone back from her and told me to hustle home.

I’m not unused to leaving work to rush to my parent’s side. But it’s usually my dad. And there’s more of a focus there. I’d announce that I have to leave and then head home and do what I needed to do. But as I told my boss what was happening… and there were talks of admitting my mom to the hospital, my words choked up in my throat and I felt tears coming on. That hadn’t happened when I’d leave because of my dad. And it’s then I realized that underlying the call to come home and help my dad was — so that I could help my mom. She’s always been the reason I do most of what I do. I stayed home because of her… I care for them because of her… I put up with unnecessary bs because of her. So it being HER that wasn’t well and about to be admitted drove me over the point.

But I came home I assessed the situation — she hadn’t been eating regularly the last few days because she’s been really uncomfortable… so she figured stopping eating was the way. She’s been on the brink of a cold for about 3 days but it never came full on. And she didn’t sleep the night before. We got her comfortable, full of fluids (Pedialyte and Gatorade) and made sure she started eating SOMETHING… even if it was small. I truly think it was the attention… Having both her son and daughter (and eventually, son-in-law-to-be) by her side attending to her, fulfilling her every wish. Ever since, she’s been much better. But it was really a scare.

I’m glad that I was able to come and be by her side. I just hope that she wasn’t well for all the reasons I thought and not anything else that may resurface later.

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