This week sucks. Actually, to be completely honest, 2011 has little to be desired thus far. I've been sick for more than three weeks at this point, and I'm over it. My face is raw, I blow my nose several times an hour. I wake up numerous times during the night because I can't breathe. This virus needs to leave my body - now.
On Thursday night I got a call from my sister, Lydia, saying she had received "a call" from my mother. I asked, "a call, or the call?" "A call," she stated. My stomach dropped. First off, any call from my mother is reason for nausea. She's bad news. But, this one was reporting that my grandmother was on the way to the emergency room "and it didn't look good." These are the kind of cryptic messages that are to be expected from her.
After much waiting and mind racing, Lydia reports that my grandmother has had left hemorrhagic stroke and she is currently undergoing TPA and will be moved to the ICU when it's done. She's responsive, but unable to talk.
Aaron's also been sick, and he was already in bed for the night and the girls were putting on a show for me when the call came in. I tried to remain as "normal" as possible and not let on that anything was wrong. Kids are way too intuitive though. When I got off the phone, Ellie asked, "Mommy, is your Mommasiddie ok?" At this point I didn't know about the stroke, only that she was in the ER. I took a deep breath and did my best. I told her that she was sick and had to go to the hospital. She asked me if she was going to die. I said I didn't know.
I finished watching the show and helped them get ready for bed. After a series of questions about my mother and grandmother, Ellie asked me if she was supposed to call my grandmother "Mommasiddie" or "Great-Mommasiddie." I told her she could call her whatever she wanted, but that I especially liked Great Mommasiddie. I told her that she was a great mom and that calling her that would be very appropriate.
I love my kids.
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