Read Part I here.
My mother didn’t say anything to me. She stood up and walked into the kitchen where my father was. “The nurse said I should go to the E.R.,” she said with a tired voice.
“Okay,” said my father.
My parents put on their winter coats and boots and said they would call when they found out anything.
There I was… left alone in the big house with fear and worry gripping, tightening my chest. What was I going to do? How could I stay here by myself? How can I distract myself? I was going stir-crazy with fear. I grabbed the phone, called my sister, and told her what was going on. I also called my brother but didn’t talk long. I knew I had to keep the phone line open in case my father called with any updates.
I lounged on the couch, feeling anything but relaxed and comfortable, and switched on the TV. I don’t remember what I watched. My mind wandered, imagining my mother in the E.R., laying on a bed in one of those paper-thin nightgowns, my father by her side. I had a knot in my stomach the longer I had to wait.
Finally, the phone rang. My sister called saying she had reached our father at the E.R.. Mother’s temperature had spiked and they were keeping her overnight for observation. The doctors ran tests and they were waiting for the results. I called my brother and let him know what I had heard.
The stress and worry of the night were exhausting. I made my way to my bedroom, changed into pajamas and went to bed. It was late and I could not stay awake any longer.
Stay Tuned for Part III on Tuesday.