It's day four of my blog, and I'm already deliquent. How unexpected. Friday (day 2) was going to be a write-off because I was working. I knew that, and was prepared for that. However, I didn't return Saturday. Why? Because I was tired from all the back and forth to the hospital.

The update from Friday goes like this: My father was admitted to the hospital to wait for heart surgery. Neither the hospital where he's suppose to have the surgery nor the surgeon have room for him, so he has been admitted to another hospital to wait, and hopefully to prevent him from having a heart attack. I can't say for sure, but I think that the rescheduling of his original surgery date has probably made the situation worse. I think that it's ironic (and pathetic) that they do that to heart patients. Don't they have enough stress as it is? (By definition, ie Type A, I think that they do).

So he and my mom went to their family doctor Friday morning to get prescriptions renewed, and the family dr decided to admit him. The hospital is near the dr's office, so they just went there after the appointment. This meant that my mother might have to drive home. Let's review: she has MS, vertigo, and is slightly (understatement) forgetful, and since my dad "retired", he has been doing most of the driving. When he doesn't drive, that's usually because I'm there. The idea of her driving home, during rush hour, did not rest well with me, so I phoned my uncle, who said that he would drop me off at the hospital. I had also phoned my cousin, who was off for the week, to see if she could give me a ride. I left a message with her.

My mother had decided that she would drive home because I was working on Friday night, and she thought that it would be a hassle for me to drive from the dr's, and then to work. To me, it was less of a worry than leaving her to drive herself. So when I drove her home, I thought that the problem was solved. She was "safe" at home (not driving), and therefore I wouldn't have to worry.

Except a few hours later, when I got a phone call from my cousin: "Do you know where your mother is?" I was still trying to decide if it was one of those trick questions, and that she knew where my mother was, when she told me that she had phoned the house a couple of times, left messages, and hadn't heard back. Immediately, I was pissed and panicked. It wasn't time for her to take the dog out for a pee (he's on a schedule so she doesn't forget...she dreamt that up), and there was no logical reason for her to be away from the phone for so long. My cousin said that she would try again in a few minutes, and if she didn't get a response, she would drive over to see what was going on. She lives less than two minutes away. I figured that it really didn't matter; if something had happened, it was nearly too late, anyhow.

I waited a couple of minutes, and then decided to phone my mother's cell phone. Both my cousin and I had hesitated to do so earlier just in case she was in the car. At this point, I thought that it wouldn't hurt to try, and I even had the desperate notion that perhaps she was screening the phone calls (why wouldn't she return them?), or something was wrong with the land line. She sometimes keeps her cell phone on and in bed with her, just in case.

She picked up almost immediately. I was lucky that I phoned right then because she had just come out of the hospital and turned her phone back on. Of course, my head was spinning, trying to figure out why she was back at the hospital, and trying to suppress the anger. She said that the hospital had phoned to ask her to bring my father's lung medicine (don't ask me...I have no idea) either that night or the following morning. Of course, she couldn't wait until the next day because their car had been parked in the lot so long earilier in the day that the parking lot guy had given her a day pass. So, to her, it was free parking.

Did I tell you that they are destitute? They aren't. They just live that way. I'll have to tell you all about how they live in the dark (literally) for fear of spending too much on their electricity bill. People have told me that the house looks vacant 7 days a week. I'm thinking of buying them solar-powered miner's helmets.

So, about 2 hours into an 8 hour shift, I was completely pissed and panicked just because my mother wanted to save a $. Instead of venting and ripping into her, I suppressed it, and took it out on my "guests".

Actually, that's not true. I guess that I was so relieved that she was alive (I can't believe that I'm saying that), that I was in a pretty good mood for the rest of the night. How unusual!

I did have a talk with her the next day. I really wanted to give her shit, especially because she was so paranoid and protective of me and my sister until we graduated from high school. Seriously, we were sheltered. But she was so pleased with herself for surviving, without hurting anyone else or damaging any cars, that I really couldn't give her the lecture I wanted to give her. I did ask her to phone someone before she went out though, because there are some people who care about her safety. This notion seemed to surprise her, which pissed me off again.

And to think that, a few years ago, we used to be a happy family.

Oh, and my father seems to be doing better. His blood pressure is under control, and he's feeling better, although he still is having the odd chest pain. But because it's a long weekend, we're going to have to wait until Tuesday to hear what's happening next.

That's the same day that I start school. I wonder what my mother will do on Tuesday to get me into a panic? I'm sure it'll be something good.

I can hardly wait.