When we last left Mom and her gummed up hydraulic and ventilation systems, her juicy-hot cardiologist* had determined the need to switch up the medications for her high blood pressure.
There is always a bumpy transition when reducing the dosage of the old drug, and ramping up the new one. The edible Dr M reviewed the process carefully, and painstakingly went over the symptoms which would trigger a call to the office – spike in blood pressure, drop or spike in pulse rate or heart palpitations.
When we got back to the house, I asked DQ to come over from next door to go over the dosing schedule for the next three weeks, as well as warning signs. Heads nodding in understanding all around – like a Smoking Bobblehead Convention – i was confident that marching orders were delivered and received.
Three nights ago, I got a call at 11 pm from DQ. Mom had been having heart palpitations for a couple days, and just told DQ about it an hour earlier. DQ, remembering that this is one of the bad things, wants to call me (she’s a reliable and diligent soldier when given orders). Mom argued with her about bothering me so late – but DQ did call.
After beating through it, and spanking around on the web, we decided it could wait til morning – but that it would be prudent to call the cardiology shop first thing in the morning.
The next day I called mom while driving home, to see what the doc said….
Mom: “I didn’t call”
Mom: “I felt a little better this morning. I don’t want to be a bother….”
daisyfae: “Ma, this is why we pay them. Haven’t you noticed all the Mercedes and BMW’s in the physicians parking lot? They don’t mind….”
Mom: “I was afraid you’d have to take off work and come down here if they put me in the hospital for tests…”
daisyfae: “Thoughtful of you, Momma, but I’d rather deal with that than deal with you stroking out on us….”
In my head, I quickly climbed the limbs of her Appalachian-American** family tree. Czech, German, English…. Nope. Not Jewish.
So where does that “I’ll just sit here quietly in the dark until my heart explodes” thing come from?
* Dr M is about 35 years old, gorgeous, considerate, wicked smart and has the patience of a saint. She wears those sexy Tina Fey “smart girl” glasses. Yeah. I’ve got a girl crush on her. Get over it. Of course, that’s not the only reason I take an entire day off work every few months, get up at 5:30 am, do full “hair and makeup”, drive 120 miles round trip and spend an hour in the waiting room listening to Mom recount the details of every meal she’s eaten for the past week. I am there to ensure Mom gets to spend a few minutes with the cardiologically brilliant Dr M. Really….