Long, stressful weekend.
First, there was the preperation for the drive. I took my vehicle to an oil change place. I knew it needed new oil and new filters. I also wanted to get the tires rotated.
Ow. I was NOT expecting to have to shell out that much for this sort of service. But, everything I had done to the car was a necessary part of vehicle maintenance. I wanted us to be safe on our trip. So, I dropped the dough and prayed that my bank could handle the $100 more than I had originally estimated.
But wait! There’s more!
During the drive up there, I could feel a shimmy starting somewhere in the rear. Now, the wind was gusting pretty damn hard and it could have been that. But, there’s also the fact that every time I rotate the wheel more than 45 degrees, something in underbelly of the car groans like an old man being pistol whipped. Could be the rear differential needing fluid or something. *shrug* I am not a mechanic so I couldn’t say for sure.
So…I stopped and checked the tires every so often – just to make sure that they weren’t wobbling off. Its unlikely but it could be that someone at Jiffy Lube didn’t tighten a lug all the way down or something.
But, no soap.
Got to Mom n’ Dad’s place at around 9.30 PM. Moo (kid sis) was having a semi-meltdown; the likes of which only 16 year old girls can have when they are fighting with their One True Love. *eye roll* We all head to bed around midnight after jawing at one another for a bit.
And I slept. Like, for 8 hours.
Get up on Saturday and start bumming around the house. We don’t have any real plans except to hang out and eat. Bro, SIL and JackJack are supposed to come over – which they do. We play with the baby and the Girlie and chatter and nosh and play some more. Normal family get together stuff. Long about 3 o’clock, I notice Mom is looking pained. I ask her what’s wrong and she mentions that she has been having these CHEST PAINS for like, the last three days. The pain is right between her breasts, slightly below her breastbone. I check my watch — and yes, Mom is still 60 years old. And then she really scares me.
“Hon, could you take me to the hospital?”
This is my Mom. She has to be practically bleeding from the eyes before she will go to a doctor. I bundle us into my car and off we go. We wound up going to a local hospital. May I say that it was the most bipolar institution I’ve ever seen? Really, really amazing care coupled with some of the crappiest and absolutely NO in-between.
I told Mom that they apparently don’t think you are having an emergency unless your ass is on fire and your head is catching.
5 hours later….
They finally determine that Mom is not having a heart attack — which we actually already knew due to her having gone and had a physical not a fortnight ago. Instead, she is having some sort of upper GI distress. Apparently her esouphagus hates her and is trying to secede. This is causing spasming and oh, yeah…pain. They scrip her for something to make the muscles relax and we head on home to my anxious Dad.
Mad props to Dad for watching the Girlie while I was taking care of Mom. She’s a handful, I know.
All of this got me thinking. Mom is 60. Sixty. Young still, I know in terms of the sort of longevity we have in America. But still….sixty. I guess it just sort of hit home that she’s mortal and that she isn’t always going to be there. Dad, I’ve sort of come to accept as going to pass away. He’s been so sick for so long. But, Mom? Mom is a rock. She was always there and would always be there. That’s just how things are…were.
Seeing your Mom laying on a stretcher in the ER can do horrible things to your perspective on the world.
All in all, Saturday sucked gangrenous green donkey dicks.
And then, the drive back on Sunday.