Midnight Calls

 It's never a good thing when the phone rings at 12:30am.

I'd tumbled into bed with my full compliment of cats around 11pm.  I was tired.  It had been my first day back at work after two weeks and there was a lot that needed to be done.  After a nine hour day, I had some spaghetti for dinner, watched a little telly, then went to bed.

My phone buzzed at 12:27.  I looked at it and didn't recognize the number.  There are a few places around here that have phone numbers one off from mine, so I figured some drunk was probably trying to get a hold of Capital Hitch.  I put the phone back down.  A minute later, it buzzed again - same number.  Okay, this might be something, so I answered.

It was Beverly at the home wanting to know which hospital we liked for Mom.  She was having symptoms of a heart attack and the EMS had already loaded her up.  I gave them the information and dragged myself out of bed, dressing in the same sweatpants and shirt I'd been wearing for two days already because they were handy.  The cats were bewildered by my abrupt departure from the bed, knowing it wasn't anywhere near breakfast time.  The settled back down without me, and with a longing backward glance, I grabbed my keys and headed out.

It's a little eerie driving the streets in the wee hours in the middle of the week.  There's no one out there.  My night blindness celebrated though - without headlights in my face, I could see everything clearly.  I don't drive after dark anymore if I can help it.  The ER was also very quiet.  I had to wait about 10 minutes before I could go back as they settled her in and hooked her up to machines and took vitals.  She was glad to see me and worried about me being out so late.  We sat and talked a little.  Her chest had been hurting her and her hands were numb.  Her back and arms hurt too.  She's already had a heart attack several years ago, and the symptoms for women aren't the same as for men, so we erred on the side of caution.  A smiling nurse named Kim brought in some Maalox, a shot to prevent nausea, and morphine.  He explained that morphine can sometimes cause tummy upset which was why she was getting the other medications.  She smiled up at him and said "I like morphine!"  The shot was followed by another technician coming to do an EKG.  Mom asked her if she was Filipino (yes) and what her name was (Angelique).  I suppose when you are nearly 85 and might be having a heart attack, you're allowed to ask stuff like that.  Around 3am, a downright jovial x-ray tech (Keith) showed up to do chest x-rays.  I'm impressed by this night crew!  They all smiled and talked to Mom and seemed to actually enjoy what they were doing.  That seems pretty rare these days.

 The morphine was really kicking in now.  She would drift off mid-sentence and there'd be great gaps of silence in our conversation.  I kept telling her not to waste the morphine and to close her eyes so she could get some good rest.  She finally did.

At about 4:30, a doctor came in and gave us the good news - not a heart attack.  Her EKGs were normal, her bloodwork didn't have the enzymes that showed up during a heart attack, and her chest x-ray was clear.  She could go home.  Except I couldn't take her in my car - it's too tall for her to get into.  So I left and drove to Dad's on the empty streets, opened his garage and swapped cars.  I picked her up, took her back to the home and got her settled in bed.  She asked me to stop by the kitchen and tell them she wouldn't be having breakfast today - Mom planned to seriously sleep in after being up all night.

I left her nodding off and drove back to Dad's to swap the cars back.  The adrenaline was leaving me and I was tired.  I collected my own car and drove carefully back to my house, where I found my cats all sleeping on my bed and I joined them.  They shifted so I could get in, then snuggled up next to me.  Finally... sleep at 7am.