Before I say anything about Mother’s Day, let me tell you about my week…
It started with pain… terrible pain in my abdomen, in the middle of the night (when people are supposed to be sleeping). So, I had to wake my poor husband and tell him that we might need to make a trip to the ER. Ultimately he convinces me that it’s probably just gas and we decide to hold off for awhile. By 4 am life was good and I was sleeping soundly. Silly me… why in the world did I think that I needed to go to the ER?
I slept in the next morning and awoke feeling rested and refreshed. I had a normal day, went for a walk, went to bed feeling fine and woke up at 6 am the next morning—in pain. Spent all day in bed trying to diagnosis myself or at least determine if this illness was life-threatening or just some minor malady. By 7 pm the pain, once again, had disappeared.
After another good night’s rest I woke up feeling grand, went grocery shopping, did a few loads of laundry and got caught up on all that housework I’d been missing. The next morning, however, the pain was back. Enough is enough. I decided to call my doctor’s office to make an appointment.
What happened to my “EASY” button? Making a doctor’s appointment is easy, right? Wrong. Apparently, due to my misfortune of having been healthy for two years, my medical records had been archived. So, I was told that I needed to come in and sign a form to get my records out of the archives before I could get an appointment and, by the way, although I haven’t changed doctors in seventeen years—I am now a “new patient.”
Even in my frustrated, agitated, pained state of mind, I was able to come up with what I thought was a fairly decent plan: I told my doctor’s office that I would wait and go to Express Care later that evening and that I would stop by on the way to sign their form. I proceeded according to “the plan” with no counter suggestions. I signed the form and took my “new patient packet” with me to fill out later. I went to Express Care, signed more forms and then was informed that I could not be treated there because I did not meet the criteria. Their suggestion: Go to the ER or make an appointment with your family doctor (whose office is now closed).
I would have gone to the ER, but the phantom pain in my stomach had left again, and so I went home. My husband thinks I’m insane.
Through it all my 83 year old mother, who has pain and medical problems of her own, prayed, and worried about me. She called two or three times a day to see how I was doing. She listened tirelessly as I rattled on and on. She offered sympathy and advice. Most importantly, she does not think I’m crazy! She really is a good mom… and though I don’t tell her nearly often enough, I am very lucky to have her.
Happy Mother’s Day to all the mom’s and a personal thanks to mine for her kindness, her example and her love.