Last night as I was driving home from the hospital after dark, I got to the last busy intersection before you turn into the neighborhood where we live. As I sat at the light, I could see a small white spotted dog that was a bit portly walking around between the cars on the opposing side. The drivers were all honking (At him? At each other to warn each other, 'There's a little dog here - look out'? At oncoming traffic as we sat there in the dark waiting for the light to change?) and I watched the dog meander with growing concern. We have a slightly portly white spotted dog and, even though it didn't really look like him, I was suddenly seized with this wild fear that it was him. That the little dog had gotten out and was wandering the streets.
The turn light flashed green and I decided to drive home and see if he was in the yard before I went out and flung myself into traffic. Our house is a minute or so from this intersection, so I could be there quickly. I pulled into the driveway, hurriedly grabbed my bags and tissue box and laptop, and I rushed into the house and then out through the back door.
Even in the dark I could see his little white face looking at me through the fence. The other dog is pitch black so I had to get closer to see him, but he was there as well. They were safe and very excited to see me for the first time in two days.
I could feel my heart racing.
In the hospital we sat in the room as the nurse gave my mom a sonogram, and we could hear her heart pumping, the noise filling up that small space and overwhelming all comforting conversation. I had listened with a mixture of dread and relief. A normal sounding heartbeat, not to be taken lightly since my dad had rushed her to the emergency room due to chest pains, but at the same time such a fragile sound.
My happiness in this world depends upon such fragile things.
On Tuesday my mom had cataract surgery. She had been dreading it because her first cataract surgery, several years ago, had resulted in a detached retina and much impaired vision in one eye. The surgery went well and she had a follow up appointment Wednesday. On Wednesday morning as I was prepping food for Thanksgiving, my dad called me to tell me they were at the hospital. He had taken her to get flowers after her appointment and she had complained of chest pains. She was at the Heart Hospital in the emergency room.
As a kid I always wondered how people knew what to do in family emergencies. My parents always seemed to just know how to handle midnight calls from hospitals and other shattering experiences. But I am discovering that you don't know - you just do the best you can and somehow get through it.
I am writing this from the great unknown. I am learning how to do this. My mom is hopefully going to get good news from the doctors today and will hopefully be able to go home. And I am adding a new layer of worries over the layers I always carry with me.
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