Pneumonia

It’s Wednesday morning. This has not been the funnest vacation I’ve ever had. In fact there’s so much stress here with Mom that I had to borrow the car and go to Walmart last night just to clear my head. I called Nelson while I drove and vented and cried. I cried because I’m scared. Mom is my family. I have my agoraphobic sister and my married to the military brother. I have an aunt and uncle here in Green Valley and an uncle and aunt somewhere in North Carolina, I think. Out of that I have three cousins, daughters to the uncle and aunt (my mother’s brother). I saw two of them at my grandmother’s funeral in ‘99 but hadn’t seen them prior to that since ‘71.

Right before I gave in to retail therapy I had been sitting on the patio enjoying the weather and trying to connect to the internet when George came and motioned me in so I could hear the way Mom was “breathing.” She sounded like a drowning guppy--or maybe that should be puppy, since I don’t imagine fish drown. The point is that she asleep in her chair and gulping in these short breaths. I sat down in front of her chair, sort of like I did when I was a kid and convinced that she needed to do something about this. I got her to agree to call the doctor this morning--which she did! When I got back from Curves she was dialing the phone.

When she was finally connected to a person, she told the gal that she thought she might have pneumonia. The gal took her number and told her she would call back. Mom thought she would probably get a call to come in for a slip to go get an X-ray. Instead when the call came they scheduled her for an appointment at 11:00. I wonder if they can and sort of hope the can and will do a breathing treatment. She’s already determined that she won’t go to the hospital. I can’t really fault her for that. There are too many sick people there and you can catch things. If they can give her a Z-pack and if that first breathing treatment does well they could schedule her to come back to the office tomorrow or Friday for more then she could stay here and recoup at home.

I just don’t want to lose my Mom.

When I was talking to Nelson his solution was that I need to move here now. He recommended that I find a job there first and he’ll come later. I don’t even see that working, but I sure appreciate his attempt to keep me near Mom. Besides, where am I going to find a job? People don’t hire felons. Last week I was out looking for places to send my participants for mean-time jobs. I picked up an application for Quiznos--you know, the sandwich place. There were ten questions related to legal issues--to just make sandwiches.

I was looking in Sunday’s paper. It’s funny. I like what I’m doing--most days. I’m very fortunate to have that kind of job. There’s nothing like that out here. I don’t have the resources or connections to find a job here. It feels sort of hopeless to me. I need to stop thinking. When Mom and George go to the doctor I may go take a walk. That sounds really good to me.

Until later…