Friday night was fun. I was in Wal-Mart picking up some RedBox movies and snacks for the weekend, when I got a call from my Dad. Mom was in the hospital and they hadn’t ruled out a stroke but they hadn’t agreed that that was what happened.
Mom was fine until 3:00 that afternoon and then everything became fuzzy. Literally. Friends of my parents called at the perfect time (right at the start of the “event”) and rushed her to the hospital. She couldn’t remember things. She knew her birthday but not the date or year. She thought her Dad was still alive. She couldn’t remember the last week, including Thanksgiving and our shopping sprees. She knew Dad but other than that, it was a blank. Around 6:00pm, Dad called me and told me what happened. I was a rock at first, I mean, it really didn’t seem real. I was in the ice cream aisle when he said she didn’t remember Thanksgiving or all the shopping we did. That’s when I sat down in the ice cream aisle. I lost it a little bit then. But when my dad started to cry a bit, I stood up and walked out of Wal-Mart and got in the car. He stressed to me that I didn’t need to come over; wait until morning. I told him that I was going to stop at home, grab some things and then drive over; I ignored his comments about waiting until morning. Like I was going to let my Mom be in the hospital without me being there to make sure she was taken care of. You must be joking.
I talked to my brother on the way over to Topeka and sobered him up real quick. My brother isn’t close to my parents. Never has been really. But I think this scared him a little bit and I’m hoping that it was for the better. He blames my parents for things that they really didn’t know they were doing nor had no control over. I forgave my parents years ago because they did what they could at the time. Now, they would be different parents; as they are. But my brother holds grudges. Plus, he’s a guy. Guy’s don’t keep touch with their parents as much as women. I think both Mom and Dad realize that. They still wish he would call more often.
I stayed in Topeka through Saturday late night and then came home. It was nice to sleep in my own bed. My plan was to go back to Topeka on Sunday and make sure she gets home OK. She wasn’t released until 3:00 on Sunday and wanted to just go home and either take a nap or just go to bed. I think I would have been in the way if I had gone over. But I still felt bad that I couldn’t be there for her. But I know Dad did a good job!
My mother is 64 and way too young to have a stroke. Thankfully, it was not a stroke. It might have been a TIA but they really aren’t sure what happened. She had high blood pressure; extremely high, so they think it was because of that. And the number one symptom of a stroke is high blood pressure. This could happen again and worse. She is going to have to start taking high blood pressure meds (high cholesterol too) and hope that it keeps the pressure down enough that she doesn’t have another “event”. They are going to buy a treadmill to help both of them lose weight. But my mother still can’t remember some things. She has no memory of Friday at all. But she seems OK with that; the alternative is much worse.
My parents don’t take medication; other then the occasional antibiotic they pick up at the Walgreen’s pharmacy nurse on duty for their bronchitis. My dad hasn’t been to a doctor since 1986. And he’s proud of that fact. He will never go to the doctor on his own; I’m thinking about dosing him with a couple of my meds just to get his ass in a gurney and poked by a doctor. I honestly thought it would be him that would have the first issue that needed medical attention. Not that I want to bring harm to either of my parents but it scares me how lazy they are with their health.
I talk to my mom on a daily basis. We talk “officially” twice a week; every Wednesday night and Sunday night, on Skype. But if I don’t actually talk talk to her, we email back and forth daily. It’s me doing most of the calling because I’m bored or something has happened and I need her advice. Other times, I just want to talk to her. And sometimes….she talks me off the ledge; sometimes literally. She is my best friend. There are some things I don’t talk to her about. But for the most part, my mom knows everything about me. I’m not embarrassed by my mom (well, sometimes I am) and I like to tell people how close we are. It makes me proud to tell them what we do, say and feel about each other. And the thought of losing my mom made me go weak. Who would love me like she does? What would I do when I had a question about sewing something and tell her to go get her computer so I could show her what I’m talking about? Where would I get the random gift in the mail or email that makes me laugh? When would someone hug me hard even though they know it bothers me? Who would do those things for me? My mother is the only one that I know of that would. And she is a great mother.
So, Mom…..please take your pills. Please go to doctor’s appointments. And please live for another 100 years because I’m not sure what I would do if you weren’t here to take care of me…even as old as I am, I need my Mommy.
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