Reunited and lonely

Well, if you looked at my previous posts, then you are aware that my mom has been having some dangerous health problems. I was more scared than I've ever been there for a while, but now the shock is starting to wear off, and continuing good reports are making me feel better about everything. What is a nice side effect of Mom's misfortune is the outpouring of support from friends near and far, and a closer family bond as a result. Also, my ex boyfriend called. He heard about Mom through the grapevine, so he decided to hit me up to express concern and let me know he's changed his ways. We didn't really formally break up; I just stopped talking to him around Labor Day last year. Why? I don't want to go into it, but it will suffice to say that one of us was a gainfully employed, law abiding citizen who had a driver's license and didn't live with their mother, and the other one...not so much. So, I figured there was no way to compete with 'ol Peter Pan and his boyish ways. But, he who was once a bit adulthood-impaired has gotten the proverbial haircut and real job. And I happen to still find him exceptionally cute. And sweet. So, we had a nice reunion and it seems that there's plenty of caring there to build on still, and I am happy about it. Thing is, I've been so busy filling up my single lady time that I am literally booked for the next month. I have Father's Day in MD this weekend, Outer Banks beach house with my friends next weekend, and Fourth of July with my sister the weekend after that, and then a trip to Ohio for a FUNK MUSIC FESTIVAL after that. During the week, I work full time and go to summer school, thus taking up 12 hrs of my day. And he lives an hour away. And hasn't gotten that license yet, so I miss him already. Life is funny. Hope he still likes me in August....

Screenprinting, math, and a little bit of happiness regained.

So, my wish has come true. As of Saturday, the 6th, my mom is home. She is doing really well, considering the damage to her heart tissue from the attack. She is on a lot of meds, and will be tired for a long time, and may have to have a defibrillator put into her chest in case she experiences the dangerous symptom of ventricular fibrillation, but she's ALIVE and that's what I hoped and prayed for so fervently last week. Now I just have to make sure Dad knows that he can't just feed her frozen dinners since she's supposed to rest and not do the cooking. He was going to give her one that had fifty one percent of the RDA for sodium when I was leaving on Sunday night. She's supposed to have only 2 grams total a day! Oh, well. It's a learning process for everyone...

On to summer school. Unfortunately, in order to get the required amount of credits I needed to get my student loan for the term, I had to enroll in two classes. No big deal, but it turns out that one of the only ones I could find that meets outside my work hours is a MATH class. I am an art student, and I haven't taken math since I was in tenth grade, back when Color Me Badd wanted to Sex You Up. I attended the first class last night, and I was pleased to find that I could understand what he was talking about to some degree. It is statistical math, with the supposition that you would be more likely to encounter the techniques in the real world (riiiiight). I now know, from one class, seven different ways to tally election votes, including the fact that poor Al Gore (I voted for you, man!) was indeed the Condorcet winner in 2000. And as for my studio art class, I am going to be learning how to screenprint, which is a long held desire of mine. It should be way more gratifying than ceramics, since I actually want to know how to do it. Hopefully I can get a project done in time to give it to Mom for her birthday at the end of this month. Even if I can't, I know this birthday, and the 43rd anniversary my parents are celebrating this Thursday, and every holiday for the forseeable future, will mean so much more because Mom might not have been there for them. Now, to keep all the promises I made to the Man Upstairs if he'd just help her get better.....

Happy Cat art by Paul Koh, courtesy Google Images.

It's all fun & games until...

Well, I've been MIA for a few days. Unfortunately, it's because my beloved mom had a heart attack last weekend. She's doing okay; still in hospital for now, but expected to improve and come home soon. I had an extremely frightening weekend, though. My mom and I are very close, and she's always been the stronger of my two parents, healthwise, so this came as a horrific shock. Luckily my dad, who's got his faults, is still the dashing savior he's been my whole life, and got her to the ER in time by running every red light on the way. And my sister and brother and their spouses have been great; all of us are really pulling together to try and help our parents and each other through all this. When I got to where they live (two hours from me) and visited Mom in the hospital, I was afraid she'd look frail or sick. She didn't. She just looked slightly chagrined and vaguely shocked. She's embarrased to be the center of attention, crazy lady. The thing I didn't realize was that even though I knew I'd be sorry to leave her when visiting hours were over, I was even more sorry that her cats couldn't be there with her to keep her company. It may seem silly, but those animals are her constant friends, and even when my dad is out of town on business, she's got a warm creature on her lap that adores her with every fiber of its tiny body. And the other one, who's really my dad's devotee, still knows who's giving out kibble in the morning, and pays her proper respect. So, even though I get good reports from the doctor and nurses and Dad all day long, and I'll be seeing her myself tomorrow, I won't be totally comfortable until she's home getting the therapy only a fuzzy pal can impart. It might seem trivial, but if you've got a cat for a friend, then you know what I mean. I love you, Mom. Come home soon.