30 January 2004

Today my eyelashes froze shut...

Today when I got home from classes (which end for me around 4 - making Friday my longest day - so much for TGIF...), Nathan said that my mom had called and that she wanted me to call her back.  Immediately, I thought that something was wrong.  However, I am wont to think that something is wrong if I wake up at 3 AM for some unknown reason - I imagine myself to be much more intuitive than I really am.

Anyhow, I try to call my parents (who live in Ohio) a few times, but am greeted by the voice mail - the polite version of the busy tone signalling that someone is online (and most of the time, someone is - especially when I really want to get through).  I finally got ahold of a real person this evening - my dad.  It turns out that the reason that my mom wanted to talk to me in the first place is that my dad had a CT scan ("a CAT scan for your heart") on Wednesday and it turned out that his score was 799.  "Healthy" is 400.  So whatever that means, my dad is in need of some maintenance, and soon.

My dad himself told me this news, in a nonchalant way, like he was telling me about his day at work.  Immediately, I cried.  However, not knowing if that was the greatest idea, I played it off really well, with perky-sounding phrases like, "Okay!" or, "at least you caught it earlier than later!"  I wasn't convinced, but I don't think that anyone else could tell over the phone.

It's a really scary thing - thinking about losing a parent.  I don't know if that's the case here - but the thought has crossed my mind (trampled through, more accurately) a lot in the past half an hour since I hung up.  It is especially difficult when no one seems to know what's going on.  My mom has always had it together when it came to health - any time I had a problem, ring-a-ling and she would be there telling me a) to relax, b) the likelihood that I had malaria was very very slim, and c) drink more water and brothy soups for a day.  It always worked.  Now to hear her on the other end of the telephone line saying that she didn't know was almost surreal.

I cried a lot.  I'm not ashamed to say that - I think that oftentimes crying is associated with weakness, but I know that it is a matter of addressing my feelings with honesty.  Lord knows we all need a bit of that.  Some more than others, and I am in that "some" group.

So here is my first entry.  I felt compelled to write, to "get it all out," as it were.  I almost feel pressured to add something profound and moving, but I can't think of anything - there are high standards out there for these things.  For me - nothing doing - I'm just here.

1 comment:

Bahiyyih said...

Hi Liz! I'm so glad I can write you comments now too! Hooray for you! I love you! I'm sorry to hear about your dad. Any updates about how he's doing? Thanks for sharing that. I hope it helped you feel better. Here's a big hug right now..mmmm.