CHAPTER 8 The Memory Of Yesterday

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copyright 2017 Chris Smith  All rights reserved.

"I want to own

every taste

every touch

every thought

every moan

every look

every ebb and flow

of you



I sat in my room watching the clouds transform into creatures before blowing out of sight. Time moved in small increments and I was mesmerized by the sky.

I kept thinking, "How do other people do this?"

I didn't have a clue how to do this. I was making shit up as we went along. I knew Mom had been sick. But I hadn't walked it through what would happen if we took her to the Hospital. Dad had threatened her with the Hospital for months, trying to get to her to change, to force a shift in her pattern.

She'd sit there on the bed, the same bed she'd hardly gotten up from the whole day, dumbfounded why Dad was so upset with her. Then she'd promise to change. I'd roll my eyes because it was the same scene on replay more times than I cared to count. But I held on to the reluctant hope. It was I all had to grab onto these days, even with my charred fingers.

I don't think the outside world had a clue what I'd been through with her the past several months. It was an isolated misery. I had been stuck at home, trying to care for her, trying to convince her to eat. Sometimes I was in a constant state of broken. Other times I stood my ground. Every day was a lost cause as far as I was concerned. I didn't know why life kept bashing my heart against the brick wall. The situation at home with her was a soul killer.

Now here I was with a mind devoid of thoughts, until something triggered its alertness, like a blinking phone or word from my Dad. He would come home once and day, and spend at least an hour or so updating me. Then he'd take a shower, grab a change of clothes and head back to the Hospital.

The Hospital was learning quickly that Dad was critical to Mom's care. She settled down with him around. The bottom line for her, she didn't want to be in the hospital. I don't know what they were normally used to but Mom could give two fucks about talking to a bunch of Doctors or helping them. Mom was ready to bail the fuck out of their sterile world.

She'd been having memory problems for years. There was concern of Alzheimer's because of her father. Our Chiropractor, the "Doc", had muscle tested (Applied Kinesiology) Mom for it, but the energy test came back with an energetic "No". The Doc had told us a while ago that the very fear of something had the potential to create it to manifest. So, if Mom was afraid enough of Alzheimer's and kept thinking about it, she might be able to have it manifest it within her.

The Doctors at the hospital still didn't know what was going on. We were in a holding pattern of waiting. The problem with waiting is every horror imaginable gets plastered up on the big screen of your mind. You can't erase it because it's up there in sharpie pen ink.

Me: Physical Therapist met with Mom today. Said she's in really good shape (amazing to me given her condition...must be all those walks we made her go on...Lol).

Bro: Awesome! Saw your email, seems like you did a pretty good job.

Me: Dad got to come home last night and sleep. Hope ur having a nice day. LUV YA!



So, Mom has 7 Doctors working on her.

She hasn't been able to complete a full sentence. She's been blurting out part of sentences or words without any context. Or she'll look at you and not say anything. Sometimes you'll see emotions cross her face, but you don't know what she's thinking and she can't tell you.

Dad has been at the hospital, working with the Doctors (since Mom can't speak for herself), and Mom (feeding her, helping her to the bathroom, changing her sheets, etc).

She's not too fond of the Doctors (big surprise).

They had to get an alarm bed for her (alarms go off every time Mom gets out of bed). She's pulled out her lines a lot (3 times yesterday).

She had a Physical Therapist come and work with her two days ago. The therapist said Mom is in good shape (shocking to me...must be all those walks we forced her to do).

Saturday, the added a very high dosage of a B vitamin to Mom's program, in the hopes that it might help her brain (perhaps her brain has been deprived of vital nutrients due to lack of eating).

Yesterday the Neurologist comes in (his second visit to see her in a week). When he visits her, he talks loudly and slowly, like she's deaf and dumb. 1st visit, Mom looked at him like "frack off Mr. Smarty pants" (Dad said).

So, yesterday, Neurologist's 2nd visit, he comes in and says (really slowly and loudly like Mom is dumb and deaf), "S-H-E-R-R-Y!?"

"W-H-A-T?!" Mom says mimicking his tone and diction.


The Neurologist then says, "What is your name?" (They've been asking her basic questions, like what her name is, what year it is, where she is, etc. to gauge her brain comprehension, etc.).

Mom says, "You just said my name."

Neurologist stands there stumped. Shocked.

Dad's in the corner watching, laughing his butt off at the scene he's witnessed!

Mom is really angry. She hit Dad 5 times. Dad finally told her, if she hit him again, he was leaving the hospital. She calmed down and apologized.

The nurses bribe her with M&Ms to get her to do stuff (like putting her IVs back in after she's ripped them out).

They took fluid out of her lungs to test.

Still no word on her biopsy results.

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