What would I do without my mom?

I know I’m lucky to have a wonderful mom.  But this past Mother’s Day weekend, I was feeling extra grateful for my mom.  I really don’t know what I would have done without her!

I’m still not 100% sure what happened to me on Friday night.  After a crazy-busy week at work, I had been so happy to unwind by going out for dinner with my mom, my sister, brother-in-law, niece & nephew.  We had a great time at Wing Night at the Norway Bay Golf Club, then I went home and watched some TV before going to bed around midnight.  I was looking forward to getting up the next morning to do some yoga, clean my house, get my grass cut, and make an ice cream dessert for our Mother’s Day dinner on Sunday.

About an hour after falling asleep, I wakened in the midst of what I can only assume was some sort of sleep-walking/night terror incident, finding myself already in the motion of rolling out of the end of my bed, summer-sault like, with my head landing on the floor and my entire body weight being catapulted forward, my neck bearing the brunt of that weight.

I lay there for a few minutes in sheer panic, absolutely certain I had just broken my neck.

The next scrambly, panic-filled moments found me realizing that I was able to move my hands and feet, so I knew I wasn’t paralyzed, even though my neck felt like it was seriously injured.  I felt the urgent need to get to the bathroom, so I got to my feet, but doing so made me feel very nauseous, and the next thing I knew I was coming to on the floor in the hallway.  I had passed out and landed on my face on the floor just outside the bathroom.  After lying there for a few more seconds (minutes? I’m really not sure, time seemed to be standing still) I managed to get to the bathroom, where I realized I had a small scratch between my eyes, and blood coming from my nose.  By that point, I was shaking all over, my neck was throbbing in pain, and I had broken into a cold sweat.

I imagine if anyone could’ve seen me, I was pinging around the upstairs in mad circles, crashing into walls, sobbing, spiralling out of control, before finally pitching myself back on to my bed.  I lay there crying, trying to decide what I should do.  Try to go back to sleep?  But what if I really had done something serious to my neck and by morning it was too late?  What if I’d already moved around too much and done more damage by not just lying still?

When you’re lying there sweating, panicking, in pain, what else is a girl to do but call her mom?

I remember thinking that I really didn’t want to, because I knew a call in the middle of the night would scare her.  But I honestly didn’t know what else to do.

So I called Mom.  And she came down to my house in less than five minutes.

By that point, I had managed to get myself downstairs to the couch (I don’t actually remember going down there, but that’s where I was when Mom arrived).  She said I was soaking wet with sweat, and she immediately told me she thought she should take me to the hospital.  I didn’t want to go, but I felt with a neck injury that I shouldn’t fool around, and so I agreed.  We quickly decided that we didn’t want to call an ambulance – I had already been walking around, what was a trip out to the car? - so she helped me do so (even though walking made me feel like I was going to vomit) and we hurried to Shawville.

This is only the second time in my life that I can remember making a trip to the hospital in the middle of the night.  The last time was about 10 years ago when I woke up having a gall bladder attack and I thought I was dying.

I had the same doctor then as I did on Friday night.

And even though my mom felt this doctor was legitimately concerned, I got the same vibe from her as I did ten years ago – You’ve woken me in the middle of the night for absolutely nothing.

She basically told me that since I was able to walk and move around, she didn’t think there was much wrong with my neck, but that she wanted me to stay the night and have x-rays taken in the morning to be on the safe side.  I wanted to go home.  My mom and the doctor convinced me that it would be better to sleep there for the night, have the x-rays done first thing in the morning, and then if all was well we could go home then.

All I could think was that it wasn’t fair that my poor mom had to stay with me in a hospital room all night.   She assured me that it was OK, that it was for the best, and it was no big deal.  The doctor even told her she could sleep in the other bed in the room because it was a quiet night up there and it was free.

A few fitful hours of sleep later, the ER started coming to life, and I eventually had my xrays taken shortly after AM.  Half an hour later, the doctor had returned to confirm that my neck was going to be fine, that it was just a bad sprain, and I should go home and rest, keep heat on it, and take Tylenol or Robaxacet.  She removed the neck brace they had put on my when I arrived, and I was free to go.

The incident scared me.  Shook me.  It wasn’t all that long ago that I wrote a post about how I was afraid of being alone and falling down the stairs or something like that – like a little old lady or something – but never in a million years did I imagine a sleep-walking-summersault-out-of-bed incident like this could happen.

All I know is that I don’t know what I would have done if I didn’t have my mom to call!

So yes.  I know I’m well blessed with a wonderful mother who has always been there for me, and who I know is always there for me if I need her.

But this past Friday night was a bigger reminder than I ever expected to get.

And all I can say, from the bottom of my heart, is… THANK YOU MOM!!!