Wednesday, November 09, 2005


I was planning to follow up yesterday’s somewhat self righteous and agitated post with something light and happy and funny. But low and behold, this is not to be.

Yesterday when I got home from work, I saw my Dad had called from his cell phone, but didn’t leave a message. I shrugged, grabbed a soda and sat on the couch to watch Dr. Phil. About an hour and a half later, somewhere near the end of Oprah, the phone rings. It’s my parents home number. I pick up the phone, and to my surprise it’s my Dad’s voice on the other end. You see, my Dad never calls from the ol’ homestead. My mom is always the one to dial and initiate the conversation. Sure, he’ll hop on the phone, say hello and engage in a little chit chat, but he usually let’s my Mom do most of work.

"Hey Dad!,what’s going on?" I say, being jovial, not expecting anything to actually be going on.

"Well, your mother’s in the hospital."

He said this so strangely. Like he couldn’t believe it himself. He said it like he had preceded it with “you’re not going to fucking believe this shit, but “. He sounded astonished.

He quickly included that there is absolutely nothing to worry about and the CAT scan didn’t really show anything (Wha? CAT scan?!) Well, at first they thought that she had a little pre-stroke (huh? Stroke?) , but then Dr. So-and-so came in and said he didn’t think so. So now they are doing a MRI (bah?) and Mom has to stay the night.

Apparently, around 7AM yesterday morning my parents were getting ready to leave to go vote. But as my mom came down the stairs, she complained of dizziness, double visions and some tingling in her fingers. She said she didn’t think she could make it to the car, so my Dad called 911.

So here I am talking to my Dad, nearly 12 hours since this has gone down, concerned but also kinda pissed that this is the first I’m hearing of it. But my concern obviously wins out and drill him with as many questions as I can think of. Unfortunately, he didn’t really know anything…no one seemed to know anything yet.

He gave me the number of her room so I could give her a call.

She sounded…ok. She sounded the same. She wasn’t in any way "off" or slurring or anything, but I did think she sounded scared. She tried to pretend it was no big deal, and the whole time was trying to change the subject. Though I was happy to hear that my Aunt Margie saw the renovation pictures on our renovation blog, it wasn’t really what I was looking to talk about. We talked for a while, but the conversation left me ill at ease. When we said good-bye, I told her I loved her and that seemed to shake her a little.

My family has never been and "I love you" family. Oh, we love each other immensely, but the words are very rarely spoken. I came to terms with that a long time ago and have done my best to overcome the hesitancy to say it in my subsequent relationships. I think my Mother might have taken the verbal-ness of my feelings as some sign of impending doom.

Now I am waiting hear from them. I’ve tried my Dad’s cell, but no one answers. I tried home in the hopes that she’s been discharged, but no answers there either. So I wait, and act all crabby here at work. I also haven’t had a cigarette since Monday and decided the cold turkey is no good and am currently chomping on a piece of Nicorette to ease the edginess – not really working.

I’ll update when I know more.

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