Scared

This week I was scared more than I ever have been before in my entire life.

This week I thought there was a chance that I might lose one of the most important people in my life, my best friend, my rock, my angel . . . my Mom.

I talk to my Mom almost every day, sometimes several times a day, and on a slow week every other day. Sometimes we talk for hours, sometimes we only talk for a minute. We try our best to make these thousands of miles between us seem a little less, as hard as that is.

On Monday, I called home and talked to my step-dad for awhile because it was his birthday, and then he passed the phone to my Mom and we did our usual catch-up since the previous phone call (which was probably the day before). She and dad were just enjoying a yummy cheesecake that she made for his birthday, and she told me about the radios that she bought him as a gift. Needless to say, all was well in Montana.

On Tuesday, I had no specific plans to call my Mom, but during the early afternoon I decided to try a new recipe and needed to call Mom for specific cooking advice. For the first few minutes,
all seemed well. I asked her what she was doing, she said she was taking five, I proceeded to ask her about the recipe, she answered my question, and then I half-heartedly mentioned that I was happy that I finally got to take a normal shower after two weeks of stitches in my hand. She didn't know why I had stitches. I reminded her of my surgery two weeks ago (which we've talked about in some capacity or another every day since). She's drawing a blank. I reminded her that it was for the cyst on my wrist that she saw last month when she was here. She's still drawing a blank. I asked her if she remembered being here last month. She didn't. Up until this point, I thought maybe she was just having a blonde/old lady moment . . . but when she couldn't remember her trip and she promised me she wasn't pulling my leg, I knew something was really wrong.

I then asked her where dad was. She couldn't remember. How long had he been gone? She couldn't remember. Are you there alone? Yes. Mom, I need to call someone. No Danielle, please don't. Yes Mom, I will call you right back. My parents don't have a cell phone, so I couldn't call dad. I then tried to call my brother, Kurt, but his phone went right to voicemail. I then decided to call my Mom's sister, Barb, at work and told the man on the other end of the line that it was an emergency. When Barb got on the phone, I told her that something was really wrong with Mom because her memory was gone. She said she'd head right over and probably would be taking Mom to the ER in case it was a stroke. Uh oh, there was that word. I asked for her cell phone number, but she doesn't have one either. Uggggghhhhh!

We hang up and I call Mom back with the plan of keeping her on the phone until Barb arrives, thinking it would be about 20 minutes or so. Although she knew who I was, she was still very confused and could not even remember that the day before was dad's birthday and that she had baked him a cake. She thought I was nuts for even suggesting the cake until she saw the cheesecake pan sitting in the sink. She couldn't remember my visit to Montana this past winter, and she couldn't remember visiting Hawaii with dad the previous winter. She didn't know who the President of the U.S. was, and she didn't know the date or the day of the week. She had no numbness, tingling, pain, headache, or unexplained scratches or bruises. She had not fallen recently and she was feeling no discomfort. She just couldn't remember.

Ironically, ten minutes into our conversation, my brother happened to stop by to pick something up. I insisted that she give him the phone, and she tried arguing with me about it, but I got a little snippy with her and demanded that she give him the phone. Thankfully, she relented. I quickly explained to my brother what was going on and to wait there with Mom until Barb showed up to take her to the hospital. I was so relieved that someone was actually there with her for the moment, especially since I couldn't be.

I waited about 15 minutes before calling the house back to see if Barb had arrived, but there was no answer. I tried again, again, and again, but still no luck. And nobody had a working cell phone. Seriously people, no cell phones? Finally after a hundred tries, my dad picked up and said he had no idea what was going on, other than he had just gotten home and found a note that they took Mom to the ER. I gave him a quick run-down and told him to call me when he got to the ER and figured out what was going on. He said he couldn't call me because he didn't have a cell phone. I insisted that he take my numbers anyway since it's a hospital and they DO HAVE PHONES.

Then I lost it. I sobbed, I prayed, I called Brian at work, I tried to call Heather, I paced, I cried some more, I prayed some more, I looked at plane tickets to Montana, and I just waited . . . nervous . . . scared. I couldn't quit thinking about the fact that the last thing I had said to my Mom was a rather bitchy demand to put my brother on the phone. Not the way I would have liked to end our conversation.

About an hour or so later, my phone finally rang and it was my sister-in-law (Kurt's wife), Kelly. She told me that Mom had made it to the ER, they were running tests on her as we were speaking, and she would be in touch WITH HER CELL PHONE. Thank God someone finally had a cell phone! I know it's Montana, but come on . . .

Awhile later my dad called and said they were still running more tests, but they didn't think she had had a stroke. THANK YOU GOD. A couple hours after that they were back at home, Mom was safe, and everyone was there with her. She was still very confused, and even though she knew who everyone was, she still had no memories dating back at least a couple years. She was not hungry (even though she hadn't eaten anything), she was not tired (even though it was very late), and she was obsessed with finding a pinky ring that she had misplaced. Apparently she asked my dad every two minutes where the ring was because she had no recollection of having just asked him two minutes before.

By the next morning things were still very fuzzy for her, but small pieces of her memory were starting to come back. She could remember Barb and Kurt being over the night before, although she could not remember anything about the hospital. When I called she said that she was feeling better but "could still hide her own Easter eggs." Obviously her sense of humor hadn't gone anywhere.

I checked in with her throughout the day, and each time I talked to her memory had improved a little bit more. By the end of the day, there was only about six hours that she could not recall at all, and of course it was the six hours starting with my original phone call to her, and ending with her trip to the hospital. Even today, she still doesn't remember talking to me or going to the hospital . . . although she is still bothered by the missing ring. Even though the ring is completely replaceable, something in her subconscious will not allow her to let go of the ring, even though her rational side knows it's silly. Very strange.

At this point, the consensus is that my Mom experienced something that is referred to as Transient Global Amnesia (TGA). TGA is a sudden episode of memory loss that cannot be explained by any neurological condition or specific situation. Like my Mom, you remember who you are and who those are around you, but you cannot remember where you are, how you got there, or any recent events. It is a somewhat rare condition, and although there are a lot of theories as to why it occurs (stress, hormones, etc.), there is no general consensus. The amnesia usually starts to resolved itself within 24 hours, at which time most people regain all memories except for the time period during the amnesia. This was the diagnosis of the ER doctor, but Mom has a follow-up appointment with her general practitioner and a neurologist next week . . . so we'll see what they say.

Dissecting that entire experience on an emotional level would take a whole other blog entry, and I'm not sure if I even want to. At this point I feel like it might be something that will be shared between my Mom and I, at some future time, when we have a chance to get past all the questions and concerns. But I can tell you that this was perhaps one of the most frightening experiences I've ever endured. It reminded me how precious life is and how quickly things can change. It reminded me to appreciate every minute I have with those that I love, even if it is just a minute on the phone. For a brief time I allowed myself to imagine my life without my Mom, and it is just something I cannot fathom having to do. My Mom has been my constant since the day I took my first breath in this world, and I cannot imagine having to breathe without her. I just thank God that He gave me more time with her and for reminding me to enjoy EVERY MINUTE.