This weekend was one for the books folks, and not necessarily in a good way. Let’s dive right in, shall we? ***WARNING*** This post contains a graphic photo near the bottom. If you don’t like blood or stitches, please go away and come back tomorrow.
Friday I had CrossFit, and then rehearsal for an hour after work. I was feeling rather depressed about the inauguration, so I did a little retail therapy at Old Navy and bought some cute shorts for CrossFit once the weather gets warmer. Ben had broom ball, so I had most of the evening to myself at home, relaxing, sipping some whiskey, and playing video games until it was bedtime.
Saturday was all about productivity. Ben’s parents are out of town, so we’ve got the house to ourselves. We cleaned it top to bottom, did laundry, meal planned, grocery shopped and all sorts of other great homey stuff.
That night, we had our buddy Erik over for a roast chicken supper and a bourbon/whiskey tasting. We opened and sampled four brand new bottles, including a $150 bottle of Jameson Limited Reserve 18 year old whiskey, which was HEAVENLY. We ate and chatted and sipped until about 11:30, and then it was lights out.
I didn’t have to go to rehearsal until 2, so it was a relatively relaxed and lazy morning. I did some bullet journaling, practiced my music for 9 to 5, and just lazed about a bit. I decided to save my meal prep stuff for the evening because I was just enjoying taking it easy. Rehearsal was pretty good–3ish hours of mostly music with a little dancing sprinkled in.
Now here’s where things went sideways. I arrived home at about 5:30 and saw I had a group text from my dad to me and my sisters. Usually, this is a sweet little note about how he loves and misses his girls. Instead, the text said “At hospital with your mother. She had a bad anxiety attack. They’re doing a CAT scan and keeping her overnight for observation.Will call when I know more.” My mom has a history of anxiety attacks, but she’s been on medication and doing well for a while, so this was super upsetting.
I walk into the house to tell Ben what’s up and he says, “I think we have a problem.” I say, “Oh yeah?” He says, “I think I need to go to the hospital.” Turns out, about 10 minutes before I arrived home, he was splitting logs to make kindling, and the axe slipped, cutting his index finger almost to the bone. He’d wrapped it in gauze and electrical tape, but Ben is the kind of guy where, if he says he needs to go to the hospital, he DEFINITELY needs to go to the hospital.
As we’re trying to get the dogs inside and lock up the house, my sister calls in hysterics over my mother, and I have to not-so-gently explain that I don’t have time to talk her down because I have to drive Ben to the ER, which is about 40 minutes away.
Three hours and 4 stitches later, we’re on our way back to the car and my dad calls. It turns out my mom’s anxiety attack was REALLY bad. As in, the doctor who treated her said he’d never seen someone so bad. Thankfully, the CAT scan came back clean, so there’s not an aneurysm or tumor or anything to worry about. But it’s really scary because I feel like, if she’s on anti-anxiety medicine, how could she have an attack so bad?
As of 8:30 this morning, I haven’t gotten any updates from my dad, so I’m not sure what to think. When all was said and done, we didn’t get into bed until after 11 last night, and I never got around to my meal prep stuff, so this morning was tough, and I’m having a hard time focusing at work. Is it Friday yet?
Quick, tell me something fun you have coming up this week–I could use some positivity.