Monday, April 25, 2011

Part The Second

... I told the nurse that Mama had called me twice. The nurse is shocked and then says that there had been a lot of chaos. Someone had code-blued down the hall and nurses and doctors and staff came running from everywhere. So Mama freaked the fuck out and wound up having to be restrained. She thought people were trying to kill her. So I called Wendy and Wendy got Angie and they went to the hospital. For their own piece of mind really, since they had sedated Mama and she was out. After she woke up, she was pretty much fine. In fact, other than a few moments of mild confusion and hyper-mamaness, she's been relatively good. Physically she's much better. They sent a psychologist 'round yesterday and of course she figured out what he was up to and she played his ass like a fiddle. Serves him right because we told him to be discreet. So now the doctor says she can't go home by herself. So they're checking into having a physical therapist/light housekeeper come in a few days a week. I don't know. I just don't know.

Sunday, April 24, 2011

Mama had herself a bout of the psychosis. Wendy took Mama to the hospital last Wednesday evening because Mama had had diarrhea for days and had been passing out and of course Mama never told anyone. So anyway, they admit her to the hospital because she's got an infection in her colon and she also has a urinary tract infection. Because she's also been passing out, they put her in CCU so that she has constant supervision. They put her in CCU. Right up the hall from where my daddy died four months ago. We were all panic-stricken. We called regularly to check on her and Sarah sat with her for most of Thursday. I had an encounter with the bitch-twat nurse who told us to stop calling so much because our calling was interfering with Mama's care. I told her too bad and to eat a dick and either tell me what I needed to know or kiss her job good-bye. Afterward, because I really, really suck at confrontation and will get my feelings hurt super-ass quick, I had myself a little breakdown and had to eat a Valium. Friday, Mama's blood-pressure finally stabilized and all of her stats were looking better and things and stuff seemed to be on the mend. She called me for the first time since who knows when and I talked to her for ten minutes. It took 30 seconds for me to figure out she was high as a kite. Like super high. I texted Angie who was in the car on her way to Lincolnton from Kure Beach. And I texted Katie who was sitting in the room with Mama. Both messages basically said, "Woo-Wee! Mama's high!". Well this was just the beginning. Paranoia. Hallucinations. Lack of sleep. Fatigue. Depression. Severe mourning. Complicated grief. Mama called me at 1:30 Saturday morning. She thought the nurses and doctors were trying to kill her. She told me I was her only hope. I told her I'd do the best that I could to help her. Five minutes later she called back and wanted to know what I was going to do. I decided to call the nurses...

to be continued...

Saturday, April 23, 2011

Staking My Claim

Since getting my tattoo, I've been thinking about staking my claim on the Such Good Roots logo. I think there might be something there. Of course, I'm not terribly ambitious at all so this may go no where. But I'd hate to be pissed off at myself later if I needed a great name for a business endeavor and some other joker out there had already stolen my name. Truth of the matter is, I actually took Such Good Roots from my sister Wendy. But tonight I gave her the term "mamatized", as in: Mama doesn't just dramatize everything. She mamatizes it. And: she didn't traumatize us, she Mamatized us. Wendy says it's a term she plans on using every day from now on. So I guess it's an okay even trade.