Bad daughter.

The Tiffany is feeling not too cheerful right now (surprise, surprise, right?). Well, it seems my mother has had a stroke. Before you get all "Oh my God, Tiffany, I'm so sorry," let me just preface this discussion by saying that I'm not broken up over it. I do, however, feel bad that I don't feel broken up.

Let's rewind. I went to my grandmother's house in Virginia on Friday to escape the fumes while the painter works in the t.v. room. You'll recall from posts way-back-when that after my grandmother was last hospitalized a few years ago, my mother moved down to keep an eye on her short-term. Short-term turned into long-term and one husband and two houses later she's still down here. My grandmother could probably move back into her home in NC and do fine with a well-trained dog or Life Alert.

Anyhoo. My mom took off work early on Friday and was at the house by 3:30. As she works on the other side of the state line and at least half an hour away, I was momentarily flattered that she had taken off early to see her grandson. So, that wasn't the case. She had a bad sinus headache and left work early to lie down - she said that it felt like something had "popped" behind her eye and it was excruciatingly painful. She sent me driving all over creation to find Tavist Sinus (which I never found) and made me endure standing in line twenty minutes clutching a pajama-wearing baby at a hellaciously crowded Wal*Mart in the den of Hillbillysville.

The next day she woke up, felt a little better and ventured downstairs for coffee. She commented that she was still feeling really nauseous, and I wondered if instead of a sinus problem if she could be having PMS-related migraines (I'm sorry to admit that I felt she was being unreasonably bitchy). Several hours later, I packed up my kid and drove home because, as usual, she'd said something that pissed me off. I promised Scott that the moment she irked me I wasn't going to stick around like a little silent bunny and take her vitriolic spewing without retaliating. When it comes to my family, I normally keep my mouth shut because they can't take what they dish out. Being a momma has sort of zapped my ability to censor myself, especially when it comes to my own self-defense, so I left before I could cuss her out.

Yesterday, my grandma called and told me that they'd taken my mother to the hospital and that she was pretty much out of it. She was speaking jibberish and didn't really know what was going on. They couldn't diagnose her for anything without doing tests, but as of today based on the symptoms she's displayed, they think she had a stroke. They're going to do some scans to make sure, but I have no doubts that's probably what occured.

The frightenting thing is that I don't feel the way a daughter should about the situation. If it had been my grandmother and not my mom, I'd be on the first thing smoking towards the hospital. Because it is my mom and because of the nature of our relationship (strained), I'm taking a wait and see approach.

My sister said she cried about it while she was in the laundromat this afternoon. That seemed so strange to me - my sister and mother spent much of my sister's adolescence engaging in fist fights. All I could say in response to that was "Wow." Then I gritted my teeth and wondered how anyone could sit around feeling like death warmed over for TWO DAYS and not take themselves to the hospital. I would personally be so fucking afraid that I'd close my eyes and die in my sleep if I felt that way.

She always says when people suggest diagnoses to her that they're speaking "of the devil" and trying to "put sickness" on her. She only needed to pray about it, and all would be well. I'm not one to knock people's spiritual beliefs, but don't Cristians believe that God helps those who helps themselves? Doesn't the highly-evolved human brain that developed scientific method and medicine have a purpose in the Christian God's great scheme? Maybe I'm just pissed off because in all those years I was laid out with endometriosis every month she told me it was in my head. Or maybe it's because when my grandmother was so ill, instead of letting the doctors run the tests they needed to, she became hostile and behaved as if they didn't know what they were talking about. I should have never called her in to make those decisions, but at the time I was too young to be the one to have to deal with the consequences if I chose poorly.

What's more frightening? And without wanting to date myself, my mother is fairly young. She could still have a kid and be agile enough by the time they graduate from high school to help them move their shit out of her house. My uncle had a stroke at about the same age and was affected for a long, long time by it. I worry both that this is something that she'll require a caretaker for afterwards and that this is something that has seeped into the next generation of family members.

To put it mildly, I feel inconvenienced. And mad. The whole situation has clarified the fact for me that I really don't like my mother as a person. I hate that I feel that way. I'm really an exceptionally sensitive person, but I feel like I've been used, taken advantage of, and disparaged just enough times that I don't give a shit anymore. You have to do a LOT of dirt to someone to get them there, and I'm just worn down now.

Perhaps I'll feel differently tomorrow and will be more willing to open that emotional door again. Right now, all I can do is focus on making sure my grandma isn't stressed out. From afar, because travelling out there again with my baby is out of the question.

More news when I have it.

Posted by Tiffany at March 12, 2007 06:11 PM | TrackBack