Friday the 13th

And then it was Friday (a 13th), and it was probably the least scary day of them all. They extracted the fluid from her lungs with a ginormous needle through her back (barf), and then took her to the cath lab where a scope was inserted through the groin to travel up and check it all out. They called it coronary artery disease caused by unchecked diabetes. Four major arteries were blocked and there wasn’t adequate blood flow to the heart. It was running at only 40% capacity. She must have had diabetes for years—shit, decades—for her heart to be so bad. They placed four stents and inserted a balloon pump to beat for her over the weekend and give her heart a rest. Come Monday they’d take her off it and we should be able to take her home. Ahem, take her and a brand new regimen of diabetes meds and blood thinners and… but that would be later. For now, Mom was laughing and telling us how awesome the doctors were. Getting to know the nurses lives within five minutes like she had a knack for. We were shocked, but now we knew what it was, and where to go from here. We felt sufficiently scolded for not being good doctor-visiting citizens. The worst was over. We brought her items from home, read to her from The Untethered Soul, bee-bopped to Hall & Oates, submitted some bill payments online that were due. It almost felt normal.

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