It brings back old memories. Diagnosis.
My mom has been diagnosed with Guillain-Barre Syndrome.
Pretty lame. Last night I broke down into another crying episode. I went to see her in the hospital and cried in the car the whole way driving home.
My mom's a strong woman. It's not like I don't think she'll be okay. It's just the sight of her in a hospital bed, not being able to pass simple neurological tests, looking 20 years older than she actually is, is upsetting. I sat next to her on her hospital bed last night and scratched her back and massaged her shoulders, trying my best to hold myself together for her. She doesn't need or want people crying over her right now (or ever). Today when I went to see her, she had just gone through dialysis, and she was in pain from the tube they put in her neck. I hate seeing her in pain, weak, and practically paralyzed. I gave her a long scalp massage and played with her hair to try and make her feel better. I hate that I have to work. I wish I could be with her. I have missed 3 consecutive days of school, and I'm afraid if I don't go, I'll be dropped. I've missed one too many days since I missed today. I hope I don't have to retake the semester.
A huge thing that bothers me is knowing how my mom used to be. When I was younger, my mom was amazing. She was strong, smart, funny, hard working....nothing could stop her. Yes, her use of alcohol definitely slowed her down, but there was a good few years where alcohol was not a part of her life at all. I miss that time. I remember being really little and she'd come to pick me up from my aunt's or grandparents' house after she got off work, and after spending the whole day missing her and wanting to hug her, she'd wrap me up in her arms and squeeze me. She'd smother my face in apple red or maroon kisses (depending on the blouse or dress she was wearing that day) and I'd breathe her in...the smell of White Diamonds and cigarettes.
When I was sick she'd take me to work with her and let me color or play with her little desk toys until she took me to the doctor. She was important in her office. She edited Chrysler's newsletter every Monday. She'd prance around in her little stilettos, making copies with her long, red fingernails, smiling and saying hello to everyone on the way to the machine. Everyone in her office loved and respected her. She always made everyone laugh. My mom was independent and sexy...no wonder her boss tried to have an affair with her.
When I was little, she took me shopping every Saturday. She spoiled me rotten, buying me a new toy every weekend, or taking my friends and me to the mall to have our nails done or splurge a little in Bath and Body Works. She loved girl time and her happiest times were when my sister was in town and the three of us could go shopping and out to eat together. None of us ever stopped laughing, and it's still the same way today when the three of us are together.
It just hurts me that mom isn't like that anymore. It's fine that she's always in sneakers and jeans instead of business suits and heels, but her attitude back then is what I miss. Getting laid off hit her hard. I miss her always smiling and I miss her optimism.
Mom takes care of everyone before she takes care of herself, and I believe that's partly what put her in the hospital. When Mark died, a big part of her died and she hasn't been the same. She's done nothing since he was diagnosed with cancer but take care of him and my grandparents, and forget about her own health. It depresses me. I wish I had been a nicer daughter to her when I was younger. But one of the things I love most about my mom is how tolerant she is of everyone. She will put you in your place with just a glance, but she's as warm-hearted and open armed as anyone could ever be. Even through the "Oh god...what color is your hair today?"s and the "WHY ON EARTH DID YOU GET SKULLS ON YOUR ARMS, YOUNG LADY?!"s and the "I wish you'd dump that loser"s and the "Why don't you even try in school, Courtney?"s and the "What is that metal thing in your lip?"s, she's never given up on me. I know I drove her absolutely insane for a few of my early teenage years, but she's never lost faith in me, and she doesn't know how much that means to me. There's never been a day where we haven't said "I love you," no matter how mad we have gotten at each other. I was never the type of kid that screamed "I hate you!" in an argument with my parents, because I knew I could never hate either of them, no matter how angry I was. My mom wants nothing but the best for me, for my family, and for the entire world. My mom loves animals, and if she could live on a farm, she would. I wish I could give her her own farm. I wish I could trade places with her. I'd much rather be the one in the hospital with a tube in my neck than to see her go through this.
A big part of why I was crying for so long last night is because my mom is so amazing at taking care of people in the hospital, or just sick people in general, and I don't know how she does it. I wish I had observed more so that I could have learned how to be there for her, but not be in her way. How to talk to her, but not drive her crazy. I hate hospitals. I hate them with a passion. I have been to every hospital in Charlotte for various family reasons in the past few years. Between Pop, Mark, Joan, and Mom, I've had enough. It doesn't help that I'm worried sick about Jim now, too. Not to mention Grandmother...stress is going to be the death of her. Mom is just such an admirable person, and I hope I can be half as good as she is at taking care of loved ones. She has taught me how to be fiercely independent and rely on no one (especially men) but myself for whatever I need. She's taught me to look on the bright side of things, and to be kind to others, but not let people walk all over me. She's taught me that family is more important than anything else in life, and if you are going to lean on someone, it should be someone in your family, because they will always have your back and they will always love you. She's always encouraged me to be myself. She's always told me, since the day that I was born, that I was beautiful and I can do anything I want to do as long as I stay motivated and perservere. She's always told me how proud she is of me, and how proud that I'm her daughter.
I know my mom has plenty of things in life that she regrets, but don't we all? We make mistakes, and we learn from them. There will be things about my mother that I will never understand, but I love her deeply and I am always going to be here for her. Her recovery is going to be tough, but I'm never backing down from taking care of her, no matter how many tears I shed, how many walls I punch through, or how many cigarettes I have to smoke. I know she'd do the same for me and nothing less.
Maybe I should clean out that damn bunny cage.
Pretty lame. Last night I broke down into another crying episode. I went to see her in the hospital and cried in the car the whole way driving home.
My mom's a strong woman. It's not like I don't think she'll be okay. It's just the sight of her in a hospital bed, not being able to pass simple neurological tests, looking 20 years older than she actually is, is upsetting. I sat next to her on her hospital bed last night and scratched her back and massaged her shoulders, trying my best to hold myself together for her. She doesn't need or want people crying over her right now (or ever). Today when I went to see her, she had just gone through dialysis, and she was in pain from the tube they put in her neck. I hate seeing her in pain, weak, and practically paralyzed. I gave her a long scalp massage and played with her hair to try and make her feel better. I hate that I have to work. I wish I could be with her. I have missed 3 consecutive days of school, and I'm afraid if I don't go, I'll be dropped. I've missed one too many days since I missed today. I hope I don't have to retake the semester.
A huge thing that bothers me is knowing how my mom used to be. When I was younger, my mom was amazing. She was strong, smart, funny, hard working....nothing could stop her. Yes, her use of alcohol definitely slowed her down, but there was a good few years where alcohol was not a part of her life at all. I miss that time. I remember being really little and she'd come to pick me up from my aunt's or grandparents' house after she got off work, and after spending the whole day missing her and wanting to hug her, she'd wrap me up in her arms and squeeze me. She'd smother my face in apple red or maroon kisses (depending on the blouse or dress she was wearing that day) and I'd breathe her in...the smell of White Diamonds and cigarettes.
When I was sick she'd take me to work with her and let me color or play with her little desk toys until she took me to the doctor. She was important in her office. She edited Chrysler's newsletter every Monday. She'd prance around in her little stilettos, making copies with her long, red fingernails, smiling and saying hello to everyone on the way to the machine. Everyone in her office loved and respected her. She always made everyone laugh. My mom was independent and sexy...no wonder her boss tried to have an affair with her.
When I was little, she took me shopping every Saturday. She spoiled me rotten, buying me a new toy every weekend, or taking my friends and me to the mall to have our nails done or splurge a little in Bath and Body Works. She loved girl time and her happiest times were when my sister was in town and the three of us could go shopping and out to eat together. None of us ever stopped laughing, and it's still the same way today when the three of us are together.
It just hurts me that mom isn't like that anymore. It's fine that she's always in sneakers and jeans instead of business suits and heels, but her attitude back then is what I miss. Getting laid off hit her hard. I miss her always smiling and I miss her optimism.
Mom takes care of everyone before she takes care of herself, and I believe that's partly what put her in the hospital. When Mark died, a big part of her died and she hasn't been the same. She's done nothing since he was diagnosed with cancer but take care of him and my grandparents, and forget about her own health. It depresses me. I wish I had been a nicer daughter to her when I was younger. But one of the things I love most about my mom is how tolerant she is of everyone. She will put you in your place with just a glance, but she's as warm-hearted and open armed as anyone could ever be. Even through the "Oh god...what color is your hair today?"s and the "WHY ON EARTH DID YOU GET SKULLS ON YOUR ARMS, YOUNG LADY?!"s and the "I wish you'd dump that loser"s and the "Why don't you even try in school, Courtney?"s and the "What is that metal thing in your lip?"s, she's never given up on me. I know I drove her absolutely insane for a few of my early teenage years, but she's never lost faith in me, and she doesn't know how much that means to me. There's never been a day where we haven't said "I love you," no matter how mad we have gotten at each other. I was never the type of kid that screamed "I hate you!" in an argument with my parents, because I knew I could never hate either of them, no matter how angry I was. My mom wants nothing but the best for me, for my family, and for the entire world. My mom loves animals, and if she could live on a farm, she would. I wish I could give her her own farm. I wish I could trade places with her. I'd much rather be the one in the hospital with a tube in my neck than to see her go through this.
A big part of why I was crying for so long last night is because my mom is so amazing at taking care of people in the hospital, or just sick people in general, and I don't know how she does it. I wish I had observed more so that I could have learned how to be there for her, but not be in her way. How to talk to her, but not drive her crazy. I hate hospitals. I hate them with a passion. I have been to every hospital in Charlotte for various family reasons in the past few years. Between Pop, Mark, Joan, and Mom, I've had enough. It doesn't help that I'm worried sick about Jim now, too. Not to mention Grandmother...stress is going to be the death of her. Mom is just such an admirable person, and I hope I can be half as good as she is at taking care of loved ones. She has taught me how to be fiercely independent and rely on no one (especially men) but myself for whatever I need. She's taught me to look on the bright side of things, and to be kind to others, but not let people walk all over me. She's taught me that family is more important than anything else in life, and if you are going to lean on someone, it should be someone in your family, because they will always have your back and they will always love you. She's always encouraged me to be myself. She's always told me, since the day that I was born, that I was beautiful and I can do anything I want to do as long as I stay motivated and perservere. She's always told me how proud she is of me, and how proud that I'm her daughter.
I know my mom has plenty of things in life that she regrets, but don't we all? We make mistakes, and we learn from them. There will be things about my mother that I will never understand, but I love her deeply and I am always going to be here for her. Her recovery is going to be tough, but I'm never backing down from taking care of her, no matter how many tears I shed, how many walls I punch through, or how many cigarettes I have to smoke. I know she'd do the same for me and nothing less.
Maybe I should clean out that damn bunny cage.