Chapter Seven
~
I arrived at the hospital with a sense of De Ja Vu. I had done this so many times before and each time it left me with a headache, sick to my stomach and angry all over again at the situation my life is in through no fault of my own. I usually wasn’t one to feel sorry for myself, but my time with Aiden recently had shown me another whole side to life and that had made this one that much bleaker.
I went to the admission counter and told the woman who I was and who I was here to see. A few moments later a woman a little older than me in a nice business suit and heels came out to greet me.
“Holly?”
“Yes, Miss Baxter?”
“Yes, please, call me Bridgette. Do you mind if we go talk before you see your mother?”
“No, that’s fine. She’s okay?”
“She will be,” Bridgette said. I followed her down a long corridor and into an office that said her name and LCSW on the door. She was a licensed clinical social worker. I couldn’t help but wonder what I might be if I’d had the chance to go to college. I had the grades, I probably could have easily gotten a scholarship if I’d applied…but my dad was sick and someone had to take care of my mother.
I took the seat Bridgette offered me and before we began talking a middle-aged man in a white lab coat joined us. Bridgette introduced him as Dr. Easton. He was the doctor caring for my mother.
After exchanging pleasantries he said, “Miss Valentine, your mother was apparently found by a friend of hers, passed out in her front yard. She’d been drinking, I’d say from the blood alcohol level for at least twenty four hours.”
I thought of myself at the spa and at dinner and then the opera. I’d left her alone, was I to blame for this? The doctor was still talking and I made myself focus and listen.
“Her blood alcohol level was three times the legal limit. We had to give her several bags of electrolytes and fluids due to her severe dehydration. I’ve ran l
ab tests and a CT of her abdomen and although I spoke to her already, I feel compelled to speak to you as well and she’s given us permission to do that. Her liver is barely functioning. Her body is beginning to build up toxins that her liver should be filtering out. She has varices in her esophagus; do you know what that is?”
“Broken veins?” I asked.
“Yes, basically. They come from long-term and repeated use of alcohol. They can cause internal bleeding and lead to all kinds of other life-threatening issues. She has a severe ulcer and from her labs it appears that she hasn’t been eating well at all because her nutritional state is so poor. Her blood glucose however, likely from the alcohol intake, was alarmingly high. We will need to test her for diabetes, and if she doesn’t have it now, it’s likely she will in the near future if she keeps going at this rate. She has other physical issues as well, all related to long term excessive use of alcohol. Her blood pressure is unstable, she may have an arrhythmia…I can have the nurses get you some printed information on all of them. The bottom line however is that if she doesn’t stop drinking, the next time this happens she might be found dead. She won’t be around long at this rate. ”
My mind was reeling. I of course knew my mother wasn’t healthy. She was too thin and her skin always looked bad. If I wasn’t mistaken, she’d also started losing some of her hair. Her teeth were almost all rotten and she refuses to go to the dentist. She was a mess and I knew it, I just hadn’t been aware how bad off she really was until now. I suppose I hadn’t thought of how that poison she insisted on using in copious amounts was destroying her insides as well.
“So what do we need to do for her?”
“Medically, I can prescribe some medications and dietary supplements for her to treat the symptoms, but she’s going to have to stop drinking or nothing is going to help her for very long. I have to get back on the floor. I’ll let Bridgette go over the rest with you. She’ll give you my office number before you go in case you think of any questions.”
“Thank you, doctor,” I told him.
“You’re welcome Miss Valentine. I’m sorry to be the bearer of such grave news.” It was bound to happen. On really bad days every time the phone rings I think this is going to be the news, or worse.
Once he’d left Bridgette said, “Dr. Easton and I had a talk with your mother about all we just went over with you. She agreed that she needed to stop drinking but expressed that she was sure she wouldn’t be able to do it on her own. She tells me that she’s been through rehab before, but that it would be hard for you to pay for it now. I’ve done a little research and I’ve found three rehab centers in the area that take her insurance as long as the share of cost is taken care of.”
My mother had Medicaid, but because of a small pension check she gets every month from my father and the home she now owns since his death, they gave her a high share of cost. An ER visit usually runs me around $2000.00 and that’s just our part. I can only imagine what rehab was going to cost on top of the bill she had already racked up here. Bridgette didn’t look like a woman who often worried about money.
I heard myself saying, “Whatever we need to do to get her help,” and then I started trying to figure out in my head how “we” were going to do that. The only solution I could come up with was accepting Aiden’s offer. I couldn’t see any other way out. If I didn’t, I’d be drowning in the medical bills my entire life.
“Would you like to see her now?” Bridgette asked me. I wanted to say no. I was angry with her, hurt, disgusted…but as usual I didn’t.
“Sure, thanks.”
***
The room was dark, just the way she liked it. She had undoubtedly already yelled at some poor nurse for opening the blinds and they hadn’t made the same mistake twice. The thick, velvet curtains pulled tight across the window left it void of light. I switched on a small fluorescent lamp near the door so that she wouldn’t complain about it getting into her eyes. She looked like she was sleeping. Her face was more peaceful than I’d seen it in a long time. The fluids they gave her went far in making her at least appear healthier. I remember when I was a little girl, I thought she was the most beautiful woman in the world. Now sometimes I don’t even really recognize her. I sat down on the chair next to her bed.
“Mom?”
Her eyelids fluttered but she didn’t open them. I called out to her again and her peaceful face turned into a scowl.
“Go away.” She grabbed the sheet on the bed and turned on her side away from me.
I was suddenly incensed. She had no one to blame for this but herself yet here I sit feeling guilty and worrying about her and the bills…all the things she should be worrying about and she had the audacity to speak to me that way. I was about to do something I was very unsure of in order to secure both of our futures. That should have been her job, or at least our job together. She’d put us both right here though, I wasn’t going to take the blame for that. Getting angrier I stood up and pulled the sheet back off of her.
“No, I will not go away. As usual, I’m paying for this little excursion. You have no idea what I am going to have to go through to pay for it. The absolute very least you could do is express some real remorse for a change. I feel like I’m raising an obstinate child most of the time and I’m sick of this, all of it. I’m going to pay these bills, and you are going into rehab when you leave here.”
My mother opened one eye slowly and then after a few seconds she opened the other. She groaned I was sure it was a headache. If she’d been at home she’d have a beer or vodka in her hand by now. She used to tell me that the best way to get rid of a hangover was to treat it with a vodka chaser. Ah, the lovely things a mother teaches her child.
When she pulled them fully open, I could see that she had tears in her eyes. It wasn’t fazing me though, I knew it as just another of her well-practiced manipulation techniques.
“Holly, I don’t want to go to one of those places. I want to stay home. I’ll miss it and you…I can stop. I don’t need to be put in one of those cold, scary places. The people are mean and I don’t sleep because I want to be home in my own bed so badly…Please tell me that I don’t have to go, Holly.”
“You can’t do it by yourself, mother. You’ve tried before, it doesn’t work. If you refuse to go to rehab, I walk away.”
“What does that mean?” she said, looking truly confused.
“That means exactly what I said. I walk, Mom. I’m not doing any of this with you anymore. This is the last time. You get into rehab and get some help and I’ll pay for it. You walk out of here and go home, I stop paying for it all. But mostly, I stop seeing you. I have no desire to ever see you like this again. I’m through.”
She was looking at me with hurt and shock in her eyes. I’d never threatened to walk away before, and she knew that without my help she would be homeless by now. Her face changed and she looked like she was going to argue again. Either the look on my face stopped her, or there was something left in her pickled brain that told her this was an okay deal.
“Okay, Holly. When do I go?”
“Soon,” I told her. “I’ll let you know after I make the arrangements.”
I got up to head for the door and I heard her say, “I love you.” I loved her too, God help me. I couldn’t stop and turn around though, I didn’t have the energy.
I walked down the hall and through the lobby and out the double doors into the fresh air. I stood there for a minute, gulping it in. I felt like I had been starving for it. Once I got enough air in my lungs and my hands stopped shaking I took out my phone and called Aiden.
“Hello?”
“I decided to do it,” I blurted out. I was afraid if I didn’t just say it that I wouldn’t.
“You decided to have my child?” he said, to clarify.
“Yes, I can meet you now to go over the contract if you have time. I just had a few more simple questions.”
“Great, Holly! Thank you. Are you at home? I’ll send my driver.”
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“No, just tell me where to meet you and I’ll be there.” He didn’t argue, he gave me the address of his attorney’s office and when I hung up I noticed my hands were shaking again. I called a cab and headed towards my destiny.