Fear for daughter cut column short

Halloween is coming soon. What a perfect time to write about witches. Coming up with a subject is often the hardest thing about writing this column but this week I had it under control. I planned to look up the history of witches, who have seemingly been around since the beginning of civilization. Then I would throw in some trivia, and conclude with modern day views about witches.
Witches can be friendly or scary or blasphemous. All of this was running through my mind when I got a call from my daughter. It was a call that no mother wants to hear these days. No, nobody is hurt or dying.
She has been named as part of the Ebola response team at the hospital where she works. My first impulse was to scream at her to immediately get herself disqualified from this thing by any means possible. Instead I helped her make plans for the care of her kids if she was quarantined for the required 21 days. I reminded her that I might not be available due to circumstances at home and told her I would do what I could.
She then sent me a picture that was scarier than any witch could ever be. My daughter’s smiling eyes peeked out from behind a facemask. It was the only part of her that was visible in the protective gear she wore. I thought I saw a flaw in the outfit and hoped that it was just a trick of the camera.
I was just coming to grips with my kid being put in such possible danger and was getting back to the thought of writing about gnarled old women with black cats.
Then the phone rung again this morning. It was my mother. She wanted to know if she should call the emergency squad. My heart fluttered. Why? She was having that same dizzy feeling she had before her last heart attack. She was afraid to fix her breakfast. What should she do?
I desperately wanted to tell her to wait until tomorrow. She had a cardiologist appointment already scheduled and I would be down in the afternoon. She has never been able to discern between what is important and what is not important. Still, she is my mother. I told her to make the call.
Now, I need to finish this missive, change my clothes and hope that the road is open between here and the hospital.
Perhaps next Halloween the witches will get their spotlight. Until then, I have more frightening things to worry about.