A long week. My 90-year-old mother, weakened by a bladder infection and by not wanting to eat, collapsed. Twice. We were afraid she had had a mini stroke, since strokes are unfortunately very common in her family. Had to drag her against her will to the doctor. My brother from Oregon was coming for a visit and she said she didn’t want to be sent to the hosiptal because she wanted to make his favorite lasagna. I told her that I didn’t think he was only coming all this way just for the lasagna, but she was unconvinced. You can’t really make lasagna when your legs can’t hold up your weight! Was she planning to sit on the floor and roll meatballs? I don’t think many of them would have escaped the dog in that case.
Anyhow, she managed to escape being put into the hospital. I think she has her doctor wrapped around her finger. He even came in on his golf day to see her. And, my brother did without his lasagna. In fact, he had to make do with takeout. I think he’s ok with it. He didn’t come just for lasagna. Thank goodness.
My mother is better now, but still seems a bit fragile. I’m not sure she’s going to come all the way back from this. That worries me, because I don’t think I can handle another loss. I guess that’s stupid, because life is full of loss, but I can’t help it. I feel a bit fragile myself. When she falls asleep in her chair I catch my breath for a moment, until I see her chest rising and falling. Isn’t that silly? I haven’t done anything like that since I was a new mom, always checking to make sure the baby is still breathing. That didn’t help me avoid loss either. It just waited until I wasn’t looking and BAM! hit me over the head with a bat. Sigh. Monkey, All.