Monday, May 15, 2006

What, me worry?

Called my Mom recently and during the course of the conversation she mentioned that she's having a stress test soon. She had some sort of painful attack recently that she thinks has to do with a hernia, but the doctor wants to rule out a heart condition. She kinda slid it in there, between talk about the new riding mower they just bought, how the garden is shaping up this year, and what silliness the dog has been up to lately.

She then informed me that she wouldn't have told my sister or me at all, except that we made "such a big deal" about that time she thought she'd had a stroke and never told us until after all the tests came back negative. They still don't know what happened that time, but it's never recurred. I can't have a hangnail without her needing to know about it, but she thinks she might have had a stroke and is surprised when we got mad at her for keeping the information to herself? She didn't want us to worry, I suppose, which means I'm expected to act nonchalant now that she's told me about this test. If I get all upset, see, she'll never tell me anything again.

So I'm going to sit here quietly and churn stomach acid for a while, until I get told that my Mommy's okay.


G said...

She's not on her own, V. That would be a completely different scenario.

She probably wants to get straight how she feels about it before she has to deal with how you all feel about it.

Pardon me - nothing to do with me...

--V said...

No, that's all right. If I didn't want comments I wouldn't put things like this out there.

She claims to not be worried about it. And she probably isn't. My mom is already older than her mother ever was, and she probably thinks a herniated whatsit or even a little angina would be no sweat compared to breast cancer (which is what Grandmom died of, in her early fifties, back when I was 10 or so).

I think it has more to do with the whole parent/child thing. She knows my sister and I are adults, but we're still her babies. This means she needs to know about every sniffle, and we should go blithely along thinking Mom is indestructible.

At least she remembered to tell me. By the time she talked to Ditter, she'd forgotten to say anything. First my sister'd heard of it was when I mentioned it yesterday. Oopsie.