Saturday, May 03, 2008

No definitive word on my mom, but ...

... damn, my nails look great! Behold Puerto Vallerta Violeta by OPI.

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.

I love this photo

It's a study in boredom and exhaustion as experienced by the most glamorous couple ever. As near as I can tell, it was taken in during the off-year elections in 1962. The President and First Lady appear to be listening to a completely scintillating speech at a Democratic fundraiser. My guess is it was just another long evening in a long campaign season. I love how they're leaning into each other, as though each knows the other finds this painful. He looks bored beyond belief, like he's trying hard to send his mind to the happy place. She has an amused, "how corny" look.

I wonder if the Clintons, the McCains, and the Obamas can relate.

I'm overdosing on reality

Still no word on my mom's condition. Of course, it's still early on Saturday. I don't believe she's had the gastrointestinal tests yet. I must be patient.

But between her issues and my friend's dangerous experience of last week, I'm kinda weary, deep down in my bones. I don't want any of this to be happening. It's all too real. Suddenly life seems terribly fragile and fate seems capricious. And I feel helpless.

So I'm getting a pedicure. It seems like the only logical thing to do.