I'm going to hell in a hand basket and fast...

It is my weekend to care for my Mom again.
*insert long pause of contemplation*

Feelings: Torn

Monday my Mom had an angiogram. She had a bad reaction to the medicine they used to sedate her (starts with a V that's all I remember.). Her blood pressure would "scream" to use the doctor's terms if she stood up and "plummet" when she laid back down. It was scary. The test was scheduled for 9 a.m. They finally performed it around 6 p.m.

She had to spend the night for observation afterwards due to her blood pressure.

She came home Tuesday.
Her face started swelling and her body started itching. Her primary believes she is reacting to something. She is being treated with antihistamines. She has become VERY confused since this procedure. Apparently the medicine used to sedate her also effects the part of the brain where she had her brain surgery. I talked to her this morning and she thought Easter was tomorrow. She wanted me to come take her to the store. She thought she stayed at her own house last night. She got mad because I wouldn't come get her and go stay at her house. I asked her to come stay with us for the night. She refused.

All that just makes me sad.

Sad because she has been set back once again. Sad because she truly doesn't know when she is being mean. Sad she feels so controlled by us. Sad I can't just pick up my life and live for her.

And it makes me nervous. Nervous for what is to come this weekend and if I have built enough inner strength to survive whatever is about to come my way.

And I am also in a state of indecision.
Dennis wants to get all of our stuff ready and go over to her house tomorrow so we don't have to do it on Friday. Then my Mom could spend an extra day at home too. But... It also means an extra day of the unknown for me.

A few posts ago I said fear was powerful. It is ya know. And sadly and also ironically is that one of my BIGGEST fears is the fear of the unknown. I like to know what is coming my way and be prepared. Not knowing is almost torturous.

And even though it is pelting rain outside my window at this very moment and thunder is crashing miles away and getting closer by the second...I am hopeful. Hopeful for cherished tidbits of time with my Mom. Hopeful that it will all be OK. Hopeful...

Hope is the anti-drug to fear. :)

So I had this waging battle in my mind all day while trying to finish up this fun little creation I made so I can show y'all and chasing my EXTREMELY active 3 year old around...

I was using my Dymo Label Maker to make some text strips for my little project and the phone rang. Cam was playing with his trucks watching a Hard Hat Harry movie on the floor. I decided it would be OK to leave my big old 1 liter bottle of iced tea and all my scrap stuff on my desk while I ran to answer the phone...

It was my sister and we only talked about 3 minutes...

When I came back Cam was up at my desk playing with some chipboard circles and my little labels were everywhere. I just swept them all in a pile and went back at peeling the pieces off so I could put them on... That's when I realized the one I had made that said "cute" was missing.

I moved everything around and even got down on my hands and knees looking under the bed, my desk, in Cameron's truck. Gone...

So I was pissed. I scolded Cameron. I told him Mommy's stuff was important and not toys and if he asked politely Mom might have some stuff for him to play with. He simply said OK and went back to his trucks...Basically like whatever Mom...You're so lame.

As I punched out cute again and tore the backing off I was irritated too much stuff floating around in my head. I grabbed my big bottle of tea took a great big drink and promptly proceeded to choke. I was freaking out. What the HELL is in tea to choke you????? I didn't know what to do. It's just me and Cam and he can't do the Heimlich. I could breathe a little so I wasn't totally freaking out but I could feel whatever was in my throat moving and that scared the shit out of me. I was afraid to breathe to deeply or fast for fear whatever it was would totally cut off my oxygen supply. I thought about calling someone but I couldn't speak... Tears stared pouring down my face and I realized I had 2 options.

Die - NOT AN OPTION!
or
Take in a long slow breath through my nose and try to cough whatever was in there out.

I decided on the breath...
And then I started praying. And making offerings to God. Please let me live and I will be a better Mom. Please let me live and I won't bitch about the laundry anymore. Please let me live I will be a nicer person. Please let me live for shits sake I am only 36... And then the last faith offering...Please let me live and I will never cuss again...

I took in a long breath and coughed like I was hacking a lung and out flew a 1 inch strip of plastic. As I sucked in a few more THANK GOD breaths I bent over to pick up the plastic and see what the heck it was...

A shiny black piece of Dymo tape that said "cute"

That's where it went. My sweet little boy slipped in my bottle. And you know what I promptly said...

Fucking nice...

So there you go.
I plead for my life and 3 seconds later promptly shoot my saving freaking grace all to hell... As well as my soul.

Sometimes, Life is a bitch.
But this time, I didn't die.

But I'm sure the devil has my seat all ready for me....LOL

Much love all,
Tam