Last Friday morning started like any other day. Mom was one day away from all her belongings being delivered to her new apartment. One more day of waiting. One more day of keeping her feet up because she had a horrible infection in both legs. We have been taking her to the doctor, and she has been taking antibiotics for a month.

Her legs have been getting better but are nowhere near close to being healed. I suggested we call the doctor and see them on Friday to get her on more antibiotics. This way, with the weekend coming, her legs wouldn't get worse before she saw the Doctor on Monday. She reluctantly agreed.

Now, you must remember that my Mother is a walking miracle medically. So much so that when she saw her new doctor for the first time, she freaked him out. He wanted to ensure he got all her old records and brushed up on everything wrong with her so he didn't mistakenly kill her by giving her some medication she shouldn't have.

While I was taking a shower, the phone had rung, and by the time I got out, I had my Mother telling me she was not going to the ER! I needed clarification. I looked at my son, who doesn't stand a chance against an 86-year-old Catholic Grandma when she doesn't want to do something.

I called the doctor's office back. I wanted clarification on why Mom had to go to the ER. Because Mom had fallen that morning... Oh, did I forget that part? Yes, my mom had taken a fall on the way to the bathroom because she loves sandals. Sandals, that I have been bitching about for over four years.

The doctor's office said they could only run some of the tests. They stated if she went to the ER, she would only have to make one trip to find out she was fine and get more antibiotics. A few words back and forth between Mom and me, and my son was driving us to the ER. I told my Mom three hours tops, and we would be back home. Easy Peazy!

Little did I know that on Thursday, the whole of Southeast Wisconsin would be in the ER, too. We checked into the ER at nine in the morning. Mom was taken into the ER six hours later, given a bed in the hallway and told to wait there. No one was happy.

Long story short. ER did a CAT scan and found a blip in her head. They wanted her to stay at the Hospital so they could do another CAT scan eight hours later to ensure that the blip had not changed shape and was just left over from twelve years ago when she died. They also wanted to put her on strong antibiotics to clear up her leg infection.

I had stopped listening when I heard the word brain and blip. I told Mom she was staying. I told her I could see her legs, but I could not see inside her brain. I explained that she was on the twenty-year plan, which didn't include blips in the brain, plus it wouldn't hurt to have some powerful antibiotics for a day. She agreed.

At one in the morning, she moved from the ER's hallway to a room in the Hospital.

On a good note, she ended up in a secret wing of the Hospital with the most marvelous private rooms I have ever seen. You can see a beautiful flower garden with a flowing water fountain outside the windows. The whole bank of six rooms is the quietest place I have ever heard in a Hospital.

Some more positive news was the brain blip didn't change. I spoke with the doctor in charge, and they convinced me there was nothing to worry about in that area. Mom's legs are another matter. She is still in the Hospital receiving high doses of antibiotics, and tomorrow, Monday, we will find out more when the wound doctor comes and checks out her legs.

During all this, the movers filled Mom's new apartment with eighty boxes, twenty end tables, and ten lampshades.

But that is a story for another day...

Oh, and I have the best son and daughter-in-law EVER!