A friend asked me today, "Are you afraid?" It was a general question -- he wasn't asking if I was afraid of any particular thing. My first reaction was, "No, not really..." I live a secure life, I'm happily married, have a good job with summers off. Sure, I'm afraid of the criminally insane. I'm afraid of physical pain. But not much else.
Then I started thinking about the last few weeks.
My mom has been very sick.
The drive to St. Mary's ER in Rochester was terrifying. "Am I bringing my mom to St. Mary's to die the way I brought my dad to St. Mary's to die?" "Is this her last car ride?" "Does she hurt?" "Can.They.Help.Her?"
She didn't get admitted to St. Mary's, and strangely, that made me less scared. My thinking was "they know what they're doing....this is Mayo..." The ride home was less scary. Two days later she was in the Cannon Falls hospital with pneumonia. Her blood oxygen level was in the 70s.
She's home now, and not herself. She thinks it's the drugs. I hope it's a temporary thing -- that she again becomes the woman who drives to the casinos, loves having coffee with her friends, and is always game for finding a great restaurant for lunch.
Maybe when that happens, I'll stop lurching every time the phone rings.
skip to main |
skip to sidebar
