My mom was hospitalized this morning. Over the course of the last 24 hours she suffered from extreme pain that she incorrectly believed was sever heartburn and acid reflux. At roughly the brunch hour she had a stent placed in one of her arteries, one that was 90% clogged. She’ll be in the hospital at least overnight, perhaps a few days. This is saddening, in so many ways.
From a purely basic, primal place this is my mom. It’s difficult to see her like this, knowing there is little I can do to help besides take on household chores and offer meager support. She’s not a big fan of being held or even talked to very much. She far prefers to watch Fox news or B rate horror films all day by herself, but she’s always been this way.
What this also brings home for me though, is that each day we have a choice…many choices actually. Every day my mom decides to smoke 4 packs of cigarettes. She has a closet full of nicotine patches, but in the end wants to smoke. Every day she avoids anything moderately healthy in her diet, I can’t recall if I’ve ever seen her eat a fruit or vegetable in my life, except a baked potato…with the added sour cream and butter I’m not certain that counts for much.
Sometimes, in the mornings as she’s digging into her second pack of cigarettes and third cup of coffee she wonders why she has so many health problems. It doens’t do any good to point out that 20 smokes before 10 is probably a good start on where things have begun to go wrong for her, but she scoffs at the notion if I do decide to say something.
Perhaps its selfish of me, but watching all of this just makes me want to make healthier choices for myself and my IMps. Makes me want to do what’s best, not what’s easy. Because frankly at some point easy becomes more difficult and painful than you can even imagine. It’s horrible to think that in many ways my mother inspires me, but ina an equal amount of ways she serves as a warning about the choices I make…each and every day.