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trouble in paradise
Everything's going well with Friday- we're going out to get coffee and browse books tomorrow (probably Victorian lit, which we both love) but there's a big, big problem at my house.
We know how much my mother means to me, right? We've all heard the famous "she's more than a mom, she's my best friend" in this journal once or twice. Well, last night, we were rushing her to the hospital because of these terrible, sharp pains in her stomach. The doctors over there are total quacks- very capable quacks, but they don't seem to care about the patient too much.
When we first got there, they were all saying, "it's her gaul bladder for sure, oh yes," but now they're telling us that it might be her liver, too, and her kidneys. They said something about her having 3x as many enzymes as she needs in her kidneys, which is apparently some kind of problem.
We visited her in the hospital a few hours ago and she looked so tired. She was like, "what, you people don't bring me flowers?" so we all went out and came back with flowers. Then she was like, "but i don't get coffee. Nice." not that she was allowed to drink anything anyway- they had her hooked up to an IV and were feeding her through that. But she loves caffine, which is where I get it from.
I know she's going to be okay, but I miss her so much. She's the only parent I can really talk to.
Friday's helping me, she's making me feel a lot better just by being there and being her. That girl means so much to me already. I'm going to her concert (for orchestra) next week and I'm going to bring her flowers (I don't know what kind yet- she said she likes lillies but I don't know if I can get them this time of year) and just thinking about the whole thing makes me feel a lot happier. More optimistic. She's a real godsend.
I'm trying not to think of my mom too much. My dad isn't helping- "you sure you want to go to school today? You sure you want to go to dance tonight? You sure you want to go to kickboxing tomorrow? You sure you can visit your mother right now?"
He keeps claiming everything's fine, yet he's acting as if someone's died, and asking me if I just want to stay home and wallow in misery. I don't get it.
Just when things were getting good... just when I can admit to myself that I'm not exactly straight... just when I find someone I can have some kind of meaningful relationship with... everything gets ******** up.
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