Well, for now I am back in Maine. My brother Dwight is keeping an eye on mom for now, and I will keep you posted on how things are going with her. She still needs another surgery, the question is when.
Shes being difficult because she is exhausted and seriously bruised from the IVs.
It started a week ago, I had been at work for a full 20 minutes when my mom called and said she wasnt feeling well, she was having some gallbladder pains in her stomach and needed to know when I would be getting out of work. I told her I would call her back in 10 minutes.
I hung up the phone, ran into my bosss office and said Im out of here, headed for New Hampshire, see ya. As I ran out the door I heard him call back to me Buckle up and drive safely!
I have the greatest boss in the world; he had no idea why I was going to NH. For all he knew there could have been a sale at the Disney store.
Once I got on the turnpike I called Brother (Bobby) to tell him something was wrong with mom, be ready to get on a plane.
For my mom to call me at work, I knew she wasnt feeling well. My mom is convinced that if I miss even a moment from work, the crew and I will end up homeless, hungry and unclothed. She thinks we are barely surviving.
Yeah, okay. We take breaks from our poverty ridden destitution to vacation in Disney World every year or so. We pack our clothes in plastic shopping bags and pay for it with food stamps.
I called mom to let her know I was on my way to her house. She got upset because she didnt want me to miss any work and was worried I would get fired.
Yes, taking care of my mom could ruin my pizza delivery career. Would I ever be able to face my friends after that? The shame of it all.
Very long story short, (for me anyway, you know I ramble on) things werent good and they admitted her. She had some complications and had to go to Boston. She was discharged on Saturday with plans to go back for a 2 day stress test on Monday.
Yeah. Nobody wants to listen to me. Told them if she came home, she would stay there until she had another attack. Apparently they think I just met the woman.
She does have an appointment with her doctor in the morning, so we will take it one day at a time for now. You just can push a stubborn little old lady to just HATES to inconvenience anyone just so far.
OH! I have a quickie story to tell you too. Its about how I almost got myself shot and my mother arrested and how I almost had my dirty laundry searched.
Because I am an IDIOT.
Mom was feeling up to going to Manchester airport with me when I took Brother to catch his flight.
Well, I was also afraid to leave her with a house full of well intentioned but not making her happy people.
As Brother was getting packed up and ready to leave, my other brother, his wife, daughter, grandson and SIL all showed up at moms. Mom started to get a little stressed out and confused. She told everyone she was going upstairs to pack up one of her kids to go home.
I followed her up stairs where I found her standing in the hallway holding open the plastic bag that I had put my laundry in. It was next to the last pair of clean jeans I had left.
Put those jeans in this bag. She said to me.
But they are clean mom. I explained to her.
Put them in the bag before you miss your flight. She said to me.
Where am I going?!? I panicked, I had no Xanax.
Tennessee. She said just before she realized I wasnt Brother.
Do I have to go and if so, do you think maybe I could borrow a suitcase instead of that plastic bag? She slapped me.
I can understand how she could look at me and mistake me for my brother. That didnt hurt my self-esteem or traumatize me at all.
Hes 6 feet tall, Im 5 feet tall.
He has 19 tattoos, I have freckles.
He has a mustache, I have a mustache.
Simple mistake.
Mom, Brother and I rode to Manchester making small talk. It was that forced sad kind of small talk people make in those situations.
We arrived in front of the airport at the unloading zone. Brother came to the drivers seat and gave me a hug. He walked around to the passenger seat and hugged mom and said a very tearful goodbye.
It hurt.
Im thinking it was either the look on Bobbys face as he looked back over his shoulder OR the tear running down the side of my moms face that made me do what I did next.
Sigh. Or it could have been from lack of sleep and poor judgment.
Brother disappeared into the airport, I started rolling the car slowly and my mom said I wish he didnt have to go.
I hit the breaks. What do you want me to do? I asked her.
She just gave me a sad look.
I threw the car in park. Mom? I said.
I got the same sad look.
I jumped out of the car and RAN into the airport through the revolving doors. I stopped when I spotted Bobby and screamed BROTHER!
The police surrounded my mother in the car in about 3 seconds. They didnt catch me.
He could have stayed another day or two, but then we would have had to do this all over again. I wont even get into the situation he would have had with the wife.
I ran back to the car and as I was running a cop was telling my mother to move the car and when he saw me he put his hand too close to his hip for my liking. Thats where they carry the gun.
Nice going, Wobin.
I took a quick look around to see if Em was around calling 911.
I hate airports.
Shes being difficult because she is exhausted and seriously bruised from the IVs.
It started a week ago, I had been at work for a full 20 minutes when my mom called and said she wasnt feeling well, she was having some gallbladder pains in her stomach and needed to know when I would be getting out of work. I told her I would call her back in 10 minutes.
I hung up the phone, ran into my bosss office and said Im out of here, headed for New Hampshire, see ya. As I ran out the door I heard him call back to me Buckle up and drive safely!
I have the greatest boss in the world; he had no idea why I was going to NH. For all he knew there could have been a sale at the Disney store.
Once I got on the turnpike I called Brother (Bobby) to tell him something was wrong with mom, be ready to get on a plane.
For my mom to call me at work, I knew she wasnt feeling well. My mom is convinced that if I miss even a moment from work, the crew and I will end up homeless, hungry and unclothed. She thinks we are barely surviving.
Yeah, okay. We take breaks from our poverty ridden destitution to vacation in Disney World every year or so. We pack our clothes in plastic shopping bags and pay for it with food stamps.
I called mom to let her know I was on my way to her house. She got upset because she didnt want me to miss any work and was worried I would get fired.
Yes, taking care of my mom could ruin my pizza delivery career. Would I ever be able to face my friends after that? The shame of it all.
Very long story short, (for me anyway, you know I ramble on) things werent good and they admitted her. She had some complications and had to go to Boston. She was discharged on Saturday with plans to go back for a 2 day stress test on Monday.
Yeah. Nobody wants to listen to me. Told them if she came home, she would stay there until she had another attack. Apparently they think I just met the woman.
She does have an appointment with her doctor in the morning, so we will take it one day at a time for now. You just can push a stubborn little old lady to just HATES to inconvenience anyone just so far.
OH! I have a quickie story to tell you too. Its about how I almost got myself shot and my mother arrested and how I almost had my dirty laundry searched.
Because I am an IDIOT.
Mom was feeling up to going to Manchester airport with me when I took Brother to catch his flight.
Well, I was also afraid to leave her with a house full of well intentioned but not making her happy people.
As Brother was getting packed up and ready to leave, my other brother, his wife, daughter, grandson and SIL all showed up at moms. Mom started to get a little stressed out and confused. She told everyone she was going upstairs to pack up one of her kids to go home.
I followed her up stairs where I found her standing in the hallway holding open the plastic bag that I had put my laundry in. It was next to the last pair of clean jeans I had left.
Put those jeans in this bag. She said to me.
But they are clean mom. I explained to her.
Put them in the bag before you miss your flight. She said to me.
Where am I going?!? I panicked, I had no Xanax.
Tennessee. She said just before she realized I wasnt Brother.
Do I have to go and if so, do you think maybe I could borrow a suitcase instead of that plastic bag? She slapped me.
I can understand how she could look at me and mistake me for my brother. That didnt hurt my self-esteem or traumatize me at all.
Hes 6 feet tall, Im 5 feet tall.
He has 19 tattoos, I have freckles.
He has a mustache, I have a mustache.
Simple mistake.
Mom, Brother and I rode to Manchester making small talk. It was that forced sad kind of small talk people make in those situations.
We arrived in front of the airport at the unloading zone. Brother came to the drivers seat and gave me a hug. He walked around to the passenger seat and hugged mom and said a very tearful goodbye.
It hurt.
Im thinking it was either the look on Bobbys face as he looked back over his shoulder OR the tear running down the side of my moms face that made me do what I did next.
Sigh. Or it could have been from lack of sleep and poor judgment.
Brother disappeared into the airport, I started rolling the car slowly and my mom said I wish he didnt have to go.
I hit the breaks. What do you want me to do? I asked her.
She just gave me a sad look.
I threw the car in park. Mom? I said.
I got the same sad look.
I jumped out of the car and RAN into the airport through the revolving doors. I stopped when I spotted Bobby and screamed BROTHER!
The police surrounded my mother in the car in about 3 seconds. They didnt catch me.
He could have stayed another day or two, but then we would have had to do this all over again. I wont even get into the situation he would have had with the wife.
I ran back to the car and as I was running a cop was telling my mother to move the car and when he saw me he put his hand too close to his hip for my liking. Thats where they carry the gun.
Nice going, Wobin.
I took a quick look around to see if Em was around calling 911.
I hate airports.
