Dizzy

Wild. Absolutely True.

Adventures.

That's what this blog promises, and my life always seems to deliver.

Mom is spending another night in the hospital. They are going to do an angiogram tomorrow just in case, but the doctor seems confident that it's really a just in case procedure. Mom is fine. Dad has been to the hospital a couple of times today to sit with her and bring her things. He took the morning paper to her this morning, and fresh clothes. This afternoon he went back with People magazine and the local weekly paper. He's made sure she has stuff to read, her glasses, her knitting bag.

This, people, is what I hope to find for myself. That kind of love and care.

I talked to Mom this afternoon. She was in good spirits. At first I thought I had woken her but it turns out she was finally eating--the last time she'd eaten was yesterday morning, and they couldn't let her eat for a while because of various tests she was getting. They gave her a turkey sandwich, pudding, milk and juice. "Meg," she said between bites. "It's delicious."

While we'd all prefer she spend tonight in her own bed, surrounded by furring purries and her own belongings, she's in excellent hands and is getting, according to her, the best of the best care. So I'm happy.

Over the last 36 hours or so, I've been on a bit of a roller coaster. I was already in a rather nervous state yesterday when the news about Mom came down the phone lines from Dad, so I was...fragile...to begin with.

It started around noon. I had decided, definitively, that I will move home at the end of August. Great! Decision made. That wasn't so bad, Meg, was it? I hopped in the shower and promptly started bawling. I haven't cried like that in ages. I've really learned over the last couple of years how to deal with my stress so I just don't cry like that anymore. But I did yesterday.

I composed myself and got out of the shower. I sat down at the computer and composed an email to Magen, the director of Chorale, resigning my position. And I promptly started bawling again. Big, snotty, sniffly, heaving sobs. I love Chorale.

I got proactive. I emailed the generic info address for Sacramento Choral Society and almost immediately got a response directly from the conductor inviting me to a Summer Sing they're having next week, with an invite to audition afterwards. Fabulous!

So there I was, making plans, making mental lists of the positive bits about moving to Mom and Dad's house. Then Dad called and all I could do was sit at the computer table and sob into my cloth napkin. Every bad scenario raced through my head. I turned to my friends--Summer, Lindsay, Maayan--to calm me down and offer positive thoughts. The familiar feeling of an incoming panic attack started to take hold. That's when I realized I needed to get off my butt and move.

So I went to the gym. I'm proud of myself for that. Working out helped me calm down. As I finished my 20 minutes on the cycle, my cell phone rang. It was Dad, letting me know that all of Mom's tests had come back normal--not a heart attack. I stood in the lobby of the gym, crying.

I ended up taking a nearly three-mile walk last night, talking to Maayan on the phone and calming down. Needless to say, I slept like a baby last night.

Today has been easier. Dad called at 8:00 to let me know that he was leaving for the hospital, that Mom was still in good spirits. He's been really good about keeping me updated and I'm glad that he knows he can lean on me a little for support. I went to the gym and had a good chat with G. the Meanie about how I can keep up my workouts when I am living further from the gym. He suggested what I'd been thinking--only go to the gym 2-3 times a week, and do full-body weight workouts, the Stair Master, cycle and swimming. Spend a good two hours there each time. Then on the non-gym days, go for a good run and do the body-weight-bearing exercises at home--the Burpees, the push-ups, the squats, etc. It's a good plan.

So I was feeling quite positive this afternoon. Then my cell phone rang. Area code 510. Oakland.

I interviewed in Oakland last Friday, and they had mentioned the next step would be to select people to come back to teach a mock lesson. It's Thursday, so I figured I had not been considered for that step...but it turns out I've been invited. So tomorrow at 12:30 I'll be teaching 5-10 teachers (pretending they are 4th and 5th graders) how to make sound on a trumpet. Which happens to be the instrument I have the least amount of confidence on. After a quick freak-out, I had a good phone conversation with Summer and I have figured out a plan of action. I will go in there tomorrow and do my best.

In the meantime, I'm just laughing at the universe. And the universe is laughing at me. Yesterday, I made a decision to turn right, and the universe laughed and said, "No, sweetie. Left turn ahead!" At this rate, I'm following some kind of karmic GPS system. All I know is that I don't know what is going to happen tomorrow, next week, next month--none of us do, in the end, but I rather thought I'd be living in Lincoln...now there's a small chance I could end up living in Oakland instead.

Have it at it universe. I'm used to adventures. I thrive on them. So bring it on. I'm ready.