My mum is sick.
This is all a little frightening especially because it’s come on rather suddenly and she’s gone from being fatigued to exhausted to unable to speak in the space of a few days. Now that she’s finally in hospital and getting some treatment for a potentially lethal combination of pericarditis and pneumonia, we’re all starting to feel a bit better about her recovery and her friggin survival. We’ve spent a lot of time with my parents, helping out and trying to keep them comfortable while keeping my brother (in Ohio) updated with all the problems – being truthful without freaking him out.
I’m going to make this all about me for a few minutes, just a couple, mainly because this blog is all about me so I feel somewhat safe being supremely selfish before I go back into the real world and help look after mum.
My mother is an older mother. This has never been an issue, she’s incredible for her age and kicks ass left, right and center, but this time I became aware of how old she is and how tired she must be when you consider how busy she is. For the first time in my life I felt like there was a time limit on the time I have left with my parents. For days I’ve just been thinking about what life would be like without her. My brothers are older than me, they’ve both been married for years and have several children that my parents adore (the feeling is mutual) and like a true brat I just kept thinking how unfair it was that their children would get more time with my wonderful parents. That they had them for their weddings, while there was a chance that when I’m ready to make that move my folks might not be there.
I get that thirty isn’t far and that I’m lucky in every way that matters, but damn it I want to stay lucky and they’ve really scared me this week – I want them both there as long as possible, for all the big milestones.