At 10:17 am on January 9, 2017 I posted:
gonna be one of those classes where its real hard to make my face not tell my feelings
I was sitting in front of a girl who … we’ve all been in front of that girl. The one who won’t stop talking and answering questions in class and she is not quite on point.
20 minutes or so later, I had a call from The Home. I let it go to voicemail, I was in the exact wrong place to be able to leave class without being a different version of that girl.
Class was out at 10:50 and I was dialing before I was out of the room.
Seven minutes later I was at the ER.
11:41 am
Made it 9 days into 2017 before the first ER appearance (Mom) I’d take selfies of us but she could still smack me down. (even with an emesis bag and weird BP).
Note. If a woman starts throwing up in the wee hours of the morning it’s more than a little probable it is a heart attack sign.
Note 2. If a woman with Chronic Inflammatory Demyelinating Polyneuropathy is having a heart attack, the nerves through her side and back may be too fried to feel any referred pain that might help indicate heart attack.
Note 3. Thank You Nurse J for SEEING my mom that morning as more than a bucket of parts in a Home. Thank you for SEEING what was happening.
4:00 pm
Made it 9 days into 2017 before the first ambulance transport to KC. (Mom’s labs are wonky, indicating maybe some heart involvement. Local hospital doesn’t do hearts or brains, those get auto transported.)
“Heart Involvement”
Um yeah. She damn near had a widow maker heart attack. Her LAD was blocked to a  percentage I don’t remember anymore but … a lot. A shiny stent and a bunch of fancy meds and we were back in the burg a few days later.
That same day, my college roommate’s Dad had a heart attack and there were no shiny stents and happy endings.
January 9th. I was so relieved my mom was going to be okay. I didn’t know about my friend’s dad until she told me the next day.
January 9th. Also the birthday of a certain little blond boy who I call “mine” who never calls me Mom (he has his own perfectly loved Mommy) but who certainly likes Saturday mornings with just me and coffee and cartoons on our couch.
40something has shown me that Death hangs out real close all the time. My FB feed reminds me when it is the birthday of someone who isn’t here to celebrate anymore.  It’s no wonder we all walk around half scared of what is going to happen next. It’s hard to be comfortable when we’ve lived through the truth of how temporary this moment is. It’s all beautiful and terrifying. All the trite crap is true. It can all change in a blink.
I. Don’t. Know. How. To. Be. Okay. With. That.