My mother unexpectedly ended up having to have open heart surgery. I suppose that's really the only way people have open heart surgery... unexpectedly. It's not the type of thing you slot in on an open weekend.
When the call came in Tuesday night, there was really no question that I would be the one to handle things. My work load these days is what we politely refer to as "light". I left as soon as I could the next morning. I also took the dogs, not because I didn't think the boyfriend could deal with them, but because I had a sinking feeling I was going to need their comfort more than he would. Which proved to be right.
My father had taken a cab to the hospital; he hasn't driven in years. I dropped the dogs at my parents house and prayed they wouldn't pee on the white carpet. I spied two cases of Mon Vie in the dining room and couldn't help but wonder if there was some sort of connection to the current crisis.
I walked into my mother's hospital room and was taken aback to see a priest sitting by her bedside, holding her hand and reading from the Bible, not really the first thing anyone wants to see when they walk in on someone with a potentially fatal heart condition. My mother beamed when she saw me and the priest rose to greet me. My mother introduced him as Father Bill. We aren't Catholic, but the hospital is, and he explained it he was just part of the service, like housekeeping or a pillow mint.
Had I known that just the next day I'd be relying on the kindness of the Sisters of St. Joseph, I probably would have thought twice about Monday's snarky post about the Weeping Virgin Mary. Probably.
Father Bill was a soft spoken, kindly man, and my mother mentioned I had just driven down from Bakersfield.
"Bakersfield!?" he exclaimed as he screwed up his face.
"Why on God's green earth do you live in Bakersfield?"
"It's along story, Father" I said and he nodded knowingly.
"I spent a night in Bakersfield once" he said. "Felt like a week".
*BaDumDump*
For a Priest, he seriously had good comic timing.
My mother had the surgery on Friday and came through with flying colors. She's spent the past two in ICU and is being bumped down to a regular room later today. We hope to have her home by Wednesday. And then the real fun begins. Rather than days, it looks like the recovery is going to be measured in weeks. At this point, I haven't a clue when I'll go home.
But I'm going to start blogging again. I need something to keep me sane. I have a ton of half finished posts, not to mention breathtaking Bako news from the lonely boyfriend back behind the Alfalfa Curtain. It may not be daily, but we'll see...
