Latest turn is scary

Any week that starts out with an unintended skating rink in the driveway and ends with a call from Mom’s visiting nurse can’t be a good one.
Last Sunday I started to do the dishes and the water wouldn’t get hot. At first I didn’t think anything of it because we were doing laundry at the time. After the laundry was safely in the dryer, I tried again. I told my husband and he went outside to see what was going on.
The first thing he noticed was the skating rink in the driveway. When he checked the water heater, it had decided it wanted to be a volcano and was spewing water out its vent pipe. He turned off the supply source. The heater pouted at no longer being able to add to the skating rink.
Monday morning we heated water on the stove so we could get cleaned up. It was not fun. Then we headed to Fort Wayne to continue my radiation treatments.
We called the plumber after we got back home. They came right out and removed the malfunctioning unit. Then they left. It seems they didn’t have the right one in stock to replace it.
The next afternoon they installed a new water heater. It was heavenly to have hot water again. Plus, the water coming out of the tap was hotter than it had ever been. The skating rink is slowly disappearing.
The daily trips for radiation began taking their toll. I found it increasingly difficult to stay awake and began sleeping most of the afternoons away. My skin also started getting pinker than usual. By the end of the week, I was asleep more than I was awake. Still, the end was in sight.
I turn my phone off during treatment and was getting so scatterbrained that I didn’t turn it back on until we got home on Friday. I found that someone had left a message. It was Mom’s visiting nurse.
Mom had called her with a problem. When the nurse saw her and did her assessment, she determined that Mom needed to go to the emergency room and called the emergency squad to take her there.
Instant panic set in.
Many phone calls later, I found she had been admitted to Reid Hospital, in Richmond. Even more phone calls ensued. The news was not good, but not dire, either. My brother is planning on picking me up this afternoon and we will go see her together.
Right now, I am not sure she will ever go home again. She has surprised us before with her resiliency and I hope I am wrong about her prognosis.
With all the worry about her, I am hoping that she can be restored to reasonable health. She certainly can’t be replaced as easily as a water heater. I have faith in her doctors as they have performed miracles before.
I had planned on sleeping the weekend away, not visiting my Mom. I had wished that her health would not take a nosedive until after I had recovered from radiation and could help her as best I could. I should know by now that Fate, or whatever controls our lives, had no regard for plans. Mom is 87. She has many health problems. She has eluded death many times and I pray that she survives this latest scare.
I am reminded of an old song. The lyrics running through my mind, “whatever will be, will be,” tell me that I have no power to change what will be and when, and if, Mom pulls through this latest situation, it is what was meant to be. Still, the thought that it may be her time scares me more than anyone can know.