
When I spoke to my mother, she sounded much, much better. She's feeling better, too, in that she's gone from sick and scared to bored and frustrated with being stuck in a hospital bed, hooked up to oxygen and an IV, and still no real diagnosis.
She has two doctors -- her internist and a gut specialist. We figure that means that they have ruled out the mega-serious stuff (like heart disease and lung cancer -- after all, no oncologist or cardiologist) and are leaning toward some sort of infection (like pneumonia or perhaps an ulcer). She knows from what she overheard that she has tests scheduled for tomorrow but hopes to be home Monday. I told her to take charge and ask her internist to explain all this to her. It would make her feel better.
Getting this pedi made me feel better. So did seeing the movie Made of Honor. It felt more than a little like a Lifetime TV movie, but so what? Sitting in the dark with Sno-Caps, gazing upon Patrick Dempsey, secure in the knowledge that I have bitchin' toenails, lifted my mood.