I slept like total junk last night. I was having one of those nightmares where you’re aware it’s a dream and it’s really awful so you wake yourself up, but when you fall back asleep the dream keeps going. Which meant I was awake a lot.
So now I am sitting here, legs jiggling uncontrollably because I’ve had way too much caffeine, and my eyes have that sort-of-puffy look about them which pisses me off because I’m out of eye liner so there’s just no fixing it. I shall have to endure the puff.
I’m antsy because my mom’s having surprise laser eye surgery today and I can’t be there. Even though I know it is routine and easy and an outpatient procedure, it feels wrong that I’m not going to be sitting in the waiting room, ready to see her as soon as it’s over.
Sunday she noticed that she was seeing a flashing light out of the corner of her right eye and after awhile she realized it wasn’t a light, it was a problem with her vision. She got herself to the eye doctor yesterday and it turns out she was having an ocular migraine, just without any pain. During the exam they found a hole on her retina and BAM! The retina is detaching from the eye! She needs surgery to correct it before it can fully detach and blind her! STAT!
Or at least, it felt that rushed to me.
My mom’s had some wonky medical stuff go on in the past couple of years so now whenever something new crops up I find myself tense and waiting for terrible news. We so far haven’t had any really horrible news, just a pretty scary incident where she got lost driving her normal route home from work and began seeing things that she knew weren’t real. All tests and scans came back normal, revealing nothing. She refused to see a specialist and chalked it up to stress, despite our pleas for her to seek some type of concrete explanation.
That all happened about three years ago and she’s been fine ever since. The doctor told her it could have been something as simple as an inner ear problem, but either she got more tests and they came back normal and she never told us she saw a specialist (which is conceivable) or she stuck her fingers in her ears and went about her business as if nothing happened (also entirely possible).
Enter: Fear of finding out something is seriously wrong. Fear that she is going to die. Fear that my kids will never know their grandmother. Fear that I can’t quite squash down and talk myself out of. Fear that is mostly ridiculous but a little bit rational, too, maybe.
I do this every time there might be something wrong with her.
It is not a fun way to live.
She has to be okay. I need her to be.