The Misadventures of an Enthusiast of Love

My mom had a stroke this week, and I’m just worried, confused, sad, frantic, lost. The same smartass, wonderful mother that used to tell me that “men are like buses, they come around every fifteen minutes” when I was broken-hearted can now hardly find the words to bitch out her nurse. She’s lost most feeling in her right side and continues to have terrible muscle spasms daily because of something that is still undeclared. Just thinking about it makes me cry for her.

She’s always been so strong, the glue that has held my dad, brothers, and sisters together. She wants every holiday to be special, even if there’s no money. She enjoys a good margarita with her daughters. She uses crude language when she’s mad. She stomps toward your room to let you know when she’s coming for your bad ass.  She laughs so hard sometimes that she either bursts into a coughing fit or pees a little. She tries to get onto me when I act less than lady-like but ends up laughing and can’t help herself. She taught me to buy food and put it in homemade containers for special events (and to just smile when the little boy asks why your baked beans taste so much like Sonny’s). She always gives away what presents are before the holiday because she’s so excited she’s gotten you something that she just knows you will love. After 50 years, she still smokes a pack of Marlboro Light 100s a day and will have a glass of Arbor Mist with her bag of medication. She never tells you how bad things are because she doesn’t want you to worry. This is the same woman that I now have to fight for at the hospital because she can’t fight for herself.

I’ve been told that things are looking hopeful. She has regained a teensy bit of feeling in her right side, and I understood that she wanted me to shoot the “bitch” nurse today. With some therapy, she will get at least somewhat better, possibly and hopefully, almost back to normal. It just kills me to not know what will change and what won’t. I know we’ll adapt and help her have the best possible life, as close to how she was as we can get. I know we’ll all work to fill her roles until she can again. It’s just hard seeing her struggle so much. She’s always had heart problems, arthritis problems, etc, but a stroke was the furthest thing from my mind. Everyone in my family has struggled so much with their health problems. I can get around a hospital with the quickness, but why her too? She’s been through so much, and it just never lets up. I don’t see the purpose in it all…