The Dreaded Phone Call

I despise a phone call that can leave you running, speeding, and over thinking to your next destination. The first time I remember a dreaded phone call was when I was 18 and having just graduated from high school. I was at church camp. It was the only year the senior girls were aloud to stay in the "white house" since camp was packed. This is an extreme privilege with full size beds, showers with a tub, and a living room! All very different from the bunk bedded cabins, smelly carpet and see through shower stalls. I remember being in the dining hall when the phone call came. My mother was rushed to the hospital. My mother at the time was 52 years old and in her 13th year of living with the crippling disease, Multiple Sclerosis. By then, she was already confined to the bed and losing what remained of her left hand function. Her dominant (the right) was first to go.  I remember the hallway where I accepted the call. I remember watching the line of teenagers go by watching me, as tears streamed down my face I learned that mom was in the hospital and her kidneys were engulfed in stone and she was losing a lot of blood. I remember wondering if I'd ever see my mom again. Thankfully, the doctors were able to dissolve the stones in surgery and she recovered fully.

Last year, while at work the next one came. I was in my classroom teaching a math lesson. My classroom telephone rang for probably the tenth time that day. My school secretary was on the other end of the line and my Aunt Norma was on hold. The secretary asked if it was okay to put her through. As I waited for the line to ring again I knew something was wrong and my heart immediately began to race. This time it was my dad. He had come home early from work and was now in bed and could not move. Naturally, I thought it could have been a stroke. As I hung up the phone and turned around, in walked another teacher to relieve me. I remember being speechless. She simply said, go. I went. I was driving... no speeding down Beltline Rd. wondering what do I do? My father is the one I always go to in times like these. He's the care giver. He always goes over and beyond with care for his wife.  I arrived at home and much to my fathers disliking I called an ambulance. It's not an easy feeling following a loved one in an ambulance to the hospital. Fortunately, this is another story that happens to have a good ending. He had an extreme case of vertigo and was able to go home that evening.

A week ago, at the end of the day I just happened to pick up my cell phone to send a coworker a text when I saw I had a missed call and a text from my Dad. It was unusual for that time of day. All the text said was "call me as soon as you can." Immediately, my heart began to race. I called my dad and the unthinkable had happened to my mother. Her nurse had somehow dropped her and my mother had a possible broken shoulder. Again, I found myself speeding down Beltline Rd. The outcome is not final on this one. Tomorrow we go to the doctor to see what to officially do about the break. I'm nervous. She hasn't sat in a wheelchair since before the accident. I pray she can stand it.

It's not an easy transition as my parents get older and I begin to make the decisions - sometimes even for them. It's bittersweet when my dad asks for advice on how to handle my mother's current situation. It's responsibility I'm willing to take at a moments notices yet, wish I never had to.