Spanikopita

Okay.

So it's yesterday afternoon, Friday. I'm standing in the cereal aisle at Central Market in Poulsbo. Somewhere around the yogurt section I had thought to check my watch and do some quick math. That's when it occurred to me that it wasn't going to make sense for me to drive to Sequim to check in on Mom before having to turn around and leave again at 4pm to make 5pm rehearsal in Port Townsend (...which was my original plan. But that was before I had to sit in Tacoma traffic for an unplanned fifteen minutes that morning on my way to SeaTac to pick up my daughter, and then another half hour on my way back from SeaTac at noon.).

So, like I said, I'm standing in the cereal aisle, staring at the Kashi boxes when I decide I'd better call home to let Dad know I won't be coming home before I go to rehearsal. (Even though the caregiver is scheduled to be there from 4-10, I had thought I would just check in before rehearsal, to make sure everything was okay.)

Yeah. So.....it seemed like a good idea to call home and just let Dad know that my plan had changed. "Seemed" is the operative word here.

Because........Mom answers the phone. And that's where it all unravels. We exchange hello's, and as soon as she knows it's me, Mom's anxiety dam breaks loose and floods into my left ear.

Before I can duck into an empty aisle (in this case, the paper-goods aisle), my mother is in the throes of a full-on panic attack. On the phone. In my ear. I have a moment when I look around at all the shoppers roaming up, down, and past where I'm standing. I'm thinking how not one of these people could possibly imagine the hysteria taking place in my left ear. I mean........Don't you ever wonder, when you see somebody talking on a cell phone, "Gee, I wonder who they're talking to. I wonder what they're talking about." Don't you ever wonder that? Wait. Is that just me? Okay, anyway.....back to Mom on the phone in my ear.........

"COOOMMMEEEE HOOOOOMMMMEEEEE!"

That's all she keeps saying, wailing really, with an "I CAN'T BREATHE" or a "YOU NEED TO GIVE ME SOMETHING TO CALM DOWN" thrown in for flavor.

Between wails, I manage to extract Dad's whereabouts. Apparently he's out on the deck....which is weird.....but, whatever.

Mom keeps on--past the cereal aisle, past the beer aisle, and through the entire bakery section. It's not until I reach the deli section that she finally says, "HERE'S DAAAAAD" and hands the phone off to him.

Okay. Now this is how Dad answers the phone. (And by the way........I happen to be checking out the ethnic food-to-go counter just as Dad gets on the phone.) "What a beautiful day!" he says with triumph and unfettered joy. And then he just kept going, "The air is just warm enough outside! I was out there soaking up some rays! Beautiful! "

Can I just point out how much I love that my 94 year old father says "....soaking up some rays"?

Anyway. So I ask him, "Hey, Dad, it's Denise. How's Mom doing?"

And, I kid you not, he says, "She's great!"

And then I hear Mom, from the background, yelling, "NOOOOO-I'M-NOOOOOT! I CAN'T BREEEEEEEEATHE!"

I notice the Spanikopita looks pretty delish.

Dad is suddenly confused. "Oh. I guess she's not so great."

In a nutshell.......Mom had a pretty serious meltdown yesterday. Well.....actually it started on Thursday and lasted through Friday night (last night). Her first day back from the nursing home was fantastic with no incidents whatsoever. Then, sometime Thursday afternoon, she started to slip and slide, head first, down her personal slimy slope of fear and panic. Essentially, she (and therefore I) didn't sleep for more than three or four hours over a two night period.

I finally got home last night, only to find the caregiver and Dad beside themselves trying to calm Mom down. (Not a very happy home last night.) I finally resorted to giving Mom two of her "as needed" pain pills. By 11pm she was fast asleep. She just now woke up.........twelve hours later........with a big ole' smile on her face to boot! "Oh I feel so much better!" she announced proudly.

"Me too, Mom!" I threw back at her. "Yay for us! We both slept through the night!" And then, like a spontaneous point of punctuation to our mutual moment of glee, I said, "High Five Mom!" and held my palm up in front of her. And, yes, Mom and I high-fived........for the first time, and, I suspect, probably not the last time.

Think I'll break out the Spanikopita for breakfast.