This weekend, I headed down to the lake for the Fourth of July weekend. I hadn't seen my mom since late April, so I was excited to spend the weekend with her. I spoke to her Saturday morning and she sounded tired. She said that she had a fever and wasn't feeling well, not sleeping well and she was going to rest.
By the time I reached the lake, my sister called me and told me to meet her at the hospital ER, as our mother had just been taken in. My sister said that Mom was confused and she wasn't able to make complete sentences. At this point, I knew that something was terribly wrong.
My sister Kiley, who had realized that Mom was not well that morning, had insisted that she go to Urgent Care, who sent her to the hospital. Kiley and I went back to see Mom, who had been tucked into an exam room. She was hooked up to an IV, in a hospital bed, and smiled when I came in. She tried to explain how she was feeling- but got stalled on the words. She knew what she wanted to say, but it couldn't come out. Her lip quivered; I knew that she was on the verge of tears. Honestly, I was too. I've never seen my mother this way before.
We talked amongst ourselves and Mom continued to try to talk to us for awhile. The doctor and nurses came and went, drawing blood, taking her blood pressure and temperature, examining her. Soon, my other sisters were there- all four of us were in the exam room with her. We huddled around her bed. Mom heard the doctor mention West Nile Virus and Rocky Mountain Spotted Fever.
We stayed with her for hours, until they finally decided to admit her. She was taken to a hospital room at 8:30, and her speech hadn't improved. My sisters and I were panicking; the doctors were stumped at this point and we were worried that her condition would continue to worsen. At 9:30, a new diagnosis emerged: meningitis. We were told that if we wanted to see her, we had to put on hospital gowns, masks and gloves. Fearing for her condition, the doctor called for a lumbar puncture (spinal tap) that night- no need to wait for morning. When I left the hospital that night around eleven, we had no answers- my sister Lauren insisted on sleeping in the chair next to Mom's bed in case something happened overnight.
Many people who lose their parents do not get a chance to say goodbye; as my mother struggled to speak to us, I realized that this was a very real possibility- that I would have to say goodbye. What do you say to someone that may not survive the night? Panic set in and I didn't know what I should tell her- that I loved her? Of course. I briefly thought about what life would be like without her- unbearable.
I was restless that night and we returned to the hospital early the next morning- and were told that we didn't have to put on the gowns and masks. Her diagnosis was viral meningitis, but it wasn't contagious- and we'd be able to be near her without taking any other precautions. The medicine was also working wonders- she could speak with only a few stalls and she would be able to go home as soon as she felt better.
The panic that I felt the day before disappeared- I was so grateful and cheerful that my mama was going to be okay. It made me realize that all of those silly things that we think are important- squabbles and disagreements with family members- they're not worth it. Love your family members, make up with them after tiffs, and always forgive- because one day, they might be gone in a blink of an eye.
No comments:
Post a Comment