I looked at the picture for a minute and placed it on the bedside table, beside me while I sleep. I got in the bed, and covered myself as I stared at the ceiling.
There are other things to be grateful for, my thoughts said to me.
There might be bad days on the horizon, but there were people around me who made my life easier, and I have never been so grateful. Before my mother got ill, I used to think we had to live the perfect life, and I had to have the perfect grades, the perfect clothes.
After my mother got dementia, though, nothing else mattered to me. I just wanted her back. I wanted her cooking days back, and her morning and night kisses. I craved the talks we had about my love life, and how hers had been back in the day.
I missed the back in my day chats. Talks and advice, which sometimes made me a little upset, but I knew she only meant well. I miss her putting on her favorite perfume, and it would make her bedroom smell like her.
I missed how she used to braid my hair in different styles for my school days. Now I couldn’t have them back. I couldn’t have her back, ever. I pressed the side of my face into the pillow and sobbed.
Chapter Four
We spent the weekend in the doctor’s office for my mom’s appointment. As I sat in Dr. Allen’s office with my dad and mom. The doctor asked my father a few questions about her condition, and he then said he’d examine my mother.
Dr. Allen typed on his computer to see the previous symptoms with our last visit to his office. He rubbed the side of his face as if he was helpless. As if he couldn’t offer any other solutions. I held my mother’s hand. I saw the worry on his face, but he kept calm the whole time. Maybe he didn’t want me to give up on hope. The hope that she gets her personality back.
“So, doctor, what do you think about her condition?” my father asked.
“Hmm,” Dr. Allen started. “I see that some other symptoms have emerged. Her condition—” he hesitated, “it’s worsened.”
“What do you suggest?” my father asked.
“We won’t take her to the mental hospital for sure,” the doctor replied. “On the other hand, I will write a new prescription for her.” He fiddled with his pen and wrote down the prescription.
“New medication?”
The doctor nodded. “Yes, they might work best on her, since the other pills didn’t do the job.” He handed the prescription to my father.
Dad read the prescription with furrowed eyebrows, full of concentration and fear. He finally looked at Dr. Allen and bobbed his head. “Thank you.”
That’s all he said. I knew he didn’t mean it, because he sounded terrified about the side effects of the new medication. We’d already lost Mom due to the other pills, and we couldn’t afford seeing her slip away from us. It was painful for her, and for all of us.
My thoughts turned to my siblings. Amelia and Adam sat in the waiting room. I had no idea if we should tell them or not. They were too young to know every detail of Mom’s condition and medications. Too young to feel those emotions, and know that she might not live until she got old and wrinkly. The doctors said her case was dangerous, and that we could lose her any time in the future, because her brain was shrinking.
With nothing left to say, we got up and left the doctor’s office.
****************************************
Amelia and Adam went upstairs the moment we reached home. I was worried that she might have felt bad about Mom’s condition, but I didn’t think they’d be able to express their feelings to us.
That day, they just needed to forget, so I guessed Adam was listening to music on his laptop, and Amelia was playing with her iPad. I sat on the couch, while my father cooked lunch in the kitchen. My mother sat beside me, and I checked my phone to see Kent’s text. That made me smile.
Kent: Hey, boo
Celia sent a hugging bear sticker
Kent: How are you, babe?
Me: Surviving
Kent: Is it about your mom?
Kent sent a sad face sticker
Me: Mom got new meds :(
Kent: Babe, the pills are there to treat her condition
Me: I know
Me: I’m just scared that she’ll turn into…
Kent: Into what?
Me: Some woman that I don’t know anymore
Celia sent a broken heart sticker
Kent: Aww, boo
Kent: Want me to come to your house?
Me: Yes, I’d like that a lot :)
Kent: On my way, then
Kent: Love you
Me: Love you too
On the other side of the Bubblechat, my girls sent me texts on the group chat. We called that group Cheetahs. As silly as it sounded, yes, we called ourselves the Cheetahs.
Max: Celia, how did the appointment go?
Jane: Is everything okay?
Me: Hey, girls, not really
Celia sent a crying face sticker
Max: OMG, gurl, what’s going on?
Max sent a shocked face sticker
Jane sent a surprised face sticker
Me: The doctor changed the meds, and now we’re going to see the side effects in her
Me: He said her condition is getting worse
Max: Baby, I’m so sorry
Jane: That’s awful
Me: Yeah
Me: Wish you girls were here with me
Max: I think Jane and I can book a flight from Georgia
Max: It’s the weekend
Jane: It is?
Max: Jane,
