Waking up this morning was no picnic. In fact it was a thunderbolt that struck.
It was 9.45 when my dad called. We were still in bed, sleeping in from an intense week. He called to tell us that my mother had been admitted to hospital very early in the morning with what seemed to be a heart attack. She’d woken up with cramping in her thigh that did not go away and chest pain that increased. She’d woken my dad, who had called the doctors. An ambulance had arrived within 10 minutes. Paramedics made sure she was medicated before being moved to the hospital.
Needless to say that within an hour of being woken up, we were on our way to Zwolle. Needed to see my mum for myself, and for that matter to see if dad was doing OK. By the time we got there mum was actually doing OK. She will have an angioplasty tomorrow. She is very lucky in that the heart seems to have had only a very short time without or with very limited oxygen.
We all (dad, brother, his GF, SO and I) visited in the afternoon. Told mum that I knew she wanted to see me after her holidays but that getting her way like this was a little extreme. She agreed that it was, but also noted that it had worked.
Anyway chances are she will be fine. She just managed to scare the hell out of everybody, including herself. We’re back home again now. SO has to pack. He’ll be away for most of the week. I am tired, as it took until I saw mum to take away the stress. Glad I was not in NZ when this happened, but then again, it was one of the reasons why I wanted to return in the first place.