Hurricane + Elderly Mother’s Mini-Stroke=Yikes!!!

I don’t usually blog about events in my daily life.  I like to write!  Writing descriptive essays or poetry is what I do for relaxation.  There was no relaxation for me since last Thursday, but then that was true for anyone living along the eastern seaboard of the United States.

On Thursday I was celebrating my mother’s 89th birthday with lunch at Panera Bread when she had some kind of a major dizzy spell that scared us both.  I drove her to Urgent Care where her unbelievably high blood pressure and stroke symptoms caused them to call an ambulance and transport her to the hospital.  I think the words “reluctant and difficult patient”  do not even come close to describing  her behavior in the hospital.  She has not seen a doctor in years, so we did not know what we were dealing with and the tests freaked her out.  Her fears caused her to refuse to ever be alone again or ever drive her car again.  Yikes!!!  She has been hanging out at my house, sleeping in the living room, since then.

Meanwhile, my daughter who lives in Galloway, New Jersey near Atlantic City was told to evacuate her condo by 9 a.m. Saturday morning.  We had planned to drive down on Friday for a weekend visit which we had to cancel because of the storm.  She could not find a place to go to with her dog and two cats and she did not want to risk a drive home, so she stayed and weathered the hurricane through some very difficult hours in the dark with no power, high winds, tornado warnings, and the fear of flooding.  While I was taking care of my mother, I was calling other relatives and checking in with the situation with my daughter.  We then lost power like 4 million other people.  This morning life is returning to normal somewhat, but in reality my mother’s situation means life will never be the same for any of us.

You would think, like my husband does, that I would now have such great material to write about.   The problem comes with trying to connect the events of the last few days with poetry.   I’m not sure it will happen.  So I will observe and feel and write in general until the poetic words flow again.   I know they will.


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