the life of zooey who happens to be Bipolar 2
Stan and I were at breakfast Sunday morning at our favorite place. It’s called Tedd’s. They serve great food from morning to night. Dad called me. It was a weird time for him to call. I tried not to panic.
Seriously Dad? Not the best way to start out the phone conversation. It would have been nice NOT to stop my heart with that statement by saying, “Your mom is ok.” He then said, “She dislocated her shoulder.”
Apparently my 76 year old mom’s an offensive tackle.
He went on to tell me that she fell at church down a few stairs. Everyone in the place could hear the deafening pop as her shoulder dislocated. The church was instantly silent with shock. Her arm was straight out and she couldn’t move it. Mom was transported to the hospital via ambulance. There, the x-rayed for breaks, put her out and put her shoulder back in, checking again for bone breaks. No breaks, just a sling.
When he finishes the story, Mom said something in the background. Dad said, “Your mom says she’ll call you later to talk about Thanksgiving and food for the week we are there.”
I knew I got my planning gene from her.