Battling

One day all is well and in the very next everything is spiralling out of control. It was a perfectly normal Sunday and my mother was in the kitchen doing what she does best ....cooking. Here health was according to all intents and purposes,good considering her age. So what happens when she suddenly goes breathless and fights to keep her head above water. What does one do in those circumstances. It is the nature of human beings to fight for survival and my mother told me what to do and which hospital to take her too. Far too many times I have worried if I would get an ambulance on time,would it make its way through traffic fast enough. I have worried myself sick that I won't know what to do in a crisis,in short I have had niggling worries at the back of my head ever since my old parents have had to depend on me for health. It's been eight years since my father passed away and while I have come to terms with it ,the experience has left its scars,the suction machine in a hospital frightens me,lots of things scare me so when my mother took I'll in the middle of the night I went on auto pilot and got her to the hospital and into a sick room ,called her doctor and then waited and prayed for strength for me and my mother. I also called my sisters to get some physical help.

I stayed as calm as I could despite my heart beating like a drum,despite it sinking inside of me at the truma that she and I were about to face. I didn't shed a tear,my mother calmed down. I gave her some confidence,whispered into her ears that I would be with her every step of the way and prayed.

Today three days later she still fights for breath. My own stops in time with hers,my heart races and I fear for her. I hope that my sisters arrival will ease my stress but it doesn't. My mother has got too used to me,she needs me around to give her confidence. She thinks I know it all when actually I know nothing.

Eight years ago I sat as I do today pouring my angst out on this blog sitting in a hospital room . Today it's a deep sense of deja vu. I am sitting in almost the same position,the room faces the same direction and my mothers laboured breathing fills the air. She is on a machine which beeps. The lights are bright in the room and it's not a nice place to be but it's probably worse for her. What thoughts rush through the mind of an 85 year old in a hospital bed fighting to breath. Does her life run through in memories. My mother has battled many a storm but has stayed strong. Lesser women would have given up but she fought . Today's I fight my tears,I fight to stay strong for her. To see her to the bitter end without giving up hope. I tell myself that while there is life there is hope. I ask God for strength and courage and I wait as I did once before. Do we get used to it? No,it's a battle we all go through,each in their own way but a situation one can never avoid.