What a week.

Ever have a day, a week, an hour planned and you think it will be great? You think, "I'm gonna be so productive with no distractions, everything is going to get done and I might even have time to relax."
And then it works out exactly as you planned, or close to it.
Well, if You have, I'm so happy for you! Personally, I never have. And last week was the most opposite of that dream ever. 🙂
Most of my blog readers are my Facebook friends, so you may already realize I had a heavy week. But God is good.

I had planned to spend most of my time at home working on clearing out my daughter's room, and doing a Spring clean of the house. I only got an hour's worth of that done, so the house looks worse than before... Horrible.
Obviously, it didn't work out that way.
One of my "new" widow-ladies (those who know me long, know widows are my favorites, always have been, anyways) invited me three times in the day after the kids left to come spend a night at her house, so I "won't be lonely" (sweet, but I generally am not lonely when I am alone... It usually takes being around people for that to happen, LoL). She was so instant, I decided to take Tuesday evening and stay.  It was a wonderful respite. I really relaxed and had a lovely time, even though she had a hard time finding food I could eat in her house, but we managed, and laughed a lot about it.
Mom George had been sick for three weeks by the time I went to my friend's house. I was worried about her. First she had an infection and the antibiotic made her ill, then she got the flu, followed by bronchitis, which could not be treated with antibiotics, because there are none left for her to try, she is either allergic or intolerant to them all.  What we did not know is that either the flu or the bronchitis, caused her to cough her way to A-fib.  By the time I went to my friend's house on Tuesday her feet and ankles had been swollen for a week.  Wednesday, when she got up she said she was swollen to her waist, so they called me and told me they were going to ER.
But they didn't want me to come. So I stayed at my friend's as planned until mid afternoon, ran a few errands, went to the chiropractor, etc.  While I was running my errands, I got a call from Mom that they were keeping her. Dad is awesome for 86, but he is stubborn. He refuses to use his cane at home,"the doctor said I only need it when I go out!" (Well, that was a year or more ago, and the doctor doesn't live with him... But that's for a different blog post, LoL). And he won't eat unless someone puts the food before him. And he insists on driving an hour each way to spend the day every day with her when she is in the hospital (she does the same, I think it's great, but they're old). Too many possibilities for something to happen to him.  So I texted Mom and told her I wanted to stay with Dad until she came home. She quickly agreed, and he was told, I was staying with him.
I was glad to be with him, I know it helped Mom as well, we didn't have to worry about him eating.
Thursday I had an exam and tutoring at the college, but insisted that if they kept her past Thursday, I would be at the hospital for a little bit, at least on Friday.
They kept her. By the time I got there Friday, she had a potassium IV.  Which made her feel a heaviness in her chest. They decided to rule out heart attack, by doing an angiogram on Saturday.  Something inside of me panicked. I have no idea, other than Satan playing on my fatigue and fears. He went to town. ( I finally got peace Saturday morning.)
Saturday, I had a Deaf event for class I needed to attend, and it was only 15 minutes from the hospital. So I stopped by before and went back after. Her angiogram was scheduled for 9am, didn't happen until 3:00, over at 4:00, back to her room by 4:30. Which was fine with me, I was done with my obligations and was free to be at the hospital as long as needed/wanted. After the procedure (which showed, every thing looking wonderful), she had to stay in bed on her back for 6 hours, and could not move at all. That meant 10pm at least. I told Mom I was going to stay until she was released to get out of bed on her own. Dad and I had dinner with her, then she sent him home before dark (something she may not have been able to do if I had not been there). As strange and frightening it is to see her in a hospital bed, not able to move or do for herself, I treasured that time (perhaps because I knew it was temporary) they made her stay in bed until 11. Then we walked three laps around the unit of the hospital, and she sent me home. Into a midnight sand/wind storm-- never drove in something like that before. Midnight driving, yes. Sand storm, yes. Combination, whoa.  Anyway.
Got home (their house) close to midnight, was in bed probably right at 12:00. Slept 5 hours, and that was it. And I was the weepy-est mess ever! I texted Mom. She texted back funny things or sweet words, and I would cry! Mad me mad at me!
By the time church was over I was a bigger mess and had to face eating alone. Usually not a problem, but I couldn't handle it that day. So I called Mom, for an update, she was coming home (Easter Sunday!). They were in the car and on the way! She asked if I had eaten I said,"not yet", and started to cry. She asked if anyone had invited me to join them, no. I cried more 😭😭.  She told me to get food and go home and rest until they got there. I said I couldn't, I was not hungry, and I couldn't stop crying.  She eventually instructed me to go to the house and nap until they got home, then we'd have lunch together before I had to go get the children.
She got settled, and took a shower, I fetched her meds and lunch, we ate and I started to feel like myself again. Then my son called. He sounded scared and upset. His father had him call and tell me they missed their flight. But they didn't miss it, they just got to the airport late and they could not board. Unattended Minors board first. They were too late and there were no seats available.
I was not emotionally prepared for such as this. Any other time extreme annoyance would have been my reaction, but this time, I was enraged.
By the end of the day, I was able to appreciate it, because I needed a day to recover from the week, and I would not have gotten it, if they had come home as scheduled. A blessing in disguise. 
God is good. Mom is well. The kids are in the air. I am in bed, still at 8:15am, the latest in weeks.

We will celebrate Resurrection Sunday, next week. A week late, but still a time for rejoicing!