With trembling fingers she disconnects the call.
Her head feels as if it is about to explode, her heart as if it's about to pixelate, and her mind as if it is about to disintegrate altogether.
''Keep it together, keep it together'', she tells herself as she paces back and forth in her tiny apartment.
''Car keys, I need to find my car keys, where are they?'' Feverishly she starts to hunt for her keys while her stomach is doing somersaults threatening to violently expel its content.
''Come on mind, remember!!!'' she tells herself as she turns her bag upside down emptying all the contents on the floor. She looks under the sofa cushions, under the dinner table, and then suddenly remembers that she had left her car keys in her jacket pocket after she came back from the shops.
''Finally!!''
She looks at her watch, 4:30 am, 30 minutes had passed since the surgeon from hospital had phoned.
She tries her son's mobile again....no answer.
With her hand on the front door door handle, she realizes that she is still in her pajamas, so she quickly runs upstairs and throws on some jeans, a t-shirt, and a pair of sneakers. The town house complex is dark and quiet so when she starts the car she holds her breath and hopes that the sound her car makes does not wake anybody.
Not a stir. A few minutes later she is on the motorway and on her way to the hospital.
She tries to remember what the surgeon had said to her, but it's blurry except for a few words: ''your son needs emergency surgery right away, but to do so, we need your signature of consent''....
The steady hum of the engine and the stillness of the deserted motorway allows her to try to reel in her emotions and thoughts. ''How badly is he hurt, is this the end, what happened, how do I deal with this emergency, will I ever again be able to sleep through a night without him calling drunk, stoned, distraught, or one of his girlfriends or friends phoning me to tell me to come and deal with him?''
Her grip on the steering wheel tightens as she tries to keep her anxiety at bay. ''Think calm thoughts and concentrate on the driving,'' she tells herself as she stares at the road ahead, trying to slow down her shallow and fast breathing. As the kilometers pass and her little green car nudges its way toward the hospital, the day breaks and somehow the sight of the sunlight breaking through the darkened sky lightens her troubled mind.
''Almost there, next turn off, soon I will be able to find out how bad it is, so right now I need to focus on gaining control of my feelings so that I will be able to deal with whatever may come. So far I have been able to deal with all the crazy and scary stuff that he has gotten into, so I will again,'' she tells herself as she turns into the hospital car park. She quickly parks the car at the first available empty space she sees, locks the car and then begin to run toward the emergency ward.
Running up and down the hospital corridors, she finally finds the emergency ward,
''Excuse me, someone from the hospital phoned me an hour ago and told me that my son has had an accident and that he needs an operation but in order to do so I need to sign something. Am I at the right place?'' The nurse lifts her head and with much patience she says: ''Your son is so drunk that we have to wait until he sobers up before we can operate. Please take a seat in the waiting room and we will let you know when it is all over.''
Slowly she walks up to one of the plastic chairs and sit down. Tears begin to well up behind her eyelids and no will power can hold them back. Turning her face away from the nurse's station and staring out the window, tears quietly and slowly slither their way down her worried face.
''What has happened to my happy, loving little boy? Why is he so unhappy all the time? What have I done wrong for him to be so unhappy?''
As hours pass, more and more people join her in the waiting room. Finally, after waiting for over four hours, a nurse taps her on the shoulder and tells her to sign the consent form as the surgeon is now ready to perform the operation. She signs the form but before she can ask exactly what the issue is, the nurse has already vanished down the corridor. Two more hours pass.
Suddenly the nurse appears again and says: ''You can see your son now, he is in room 10 B, it's the second door on the left. The operation went well so you can take your son home in an hour when the anesthetic has worn off,'' and with that she walks back to the nurse's station.
Slowly and with fear and trepidation, she walks to room 10 B.
There, in the bed with his arm all bandaged up, scratches all over his face and looking terrible, lays her most beloved. Her heart sinks as she looks at him, and then with whatever little strength she still can muster, she says: ''When you are ready I will take you home, or would you like to come home with me?'' Her son looks at her with bloodshot eyes and a tone of disdain in his voice and says: ''I don't know what the big deal is, just take me to my place, all I did was fall out a window and hurt my arm.''
Walking to the car neither of them says a word. When they arrive at his place she helps him up the front steps to his house. He walks in to his bedroom, lays down on the bed and then tells her that she can leave.
''Call me if you need anything'' she tells him as she walks out of the room.
''I'm okay, don't worry so much all the time'' he responds.
She feels numb as she starts the car, she feels numb as she hits the motorway, she feels numb as she goes through the events of the last 24 hours in her mind, she feels numb when she arrives home and parks the car. While still in the car, suddenly a thunderstorm with rapid fire lightning strikes strike all around her. Usually thunderstorms would unnerve her, but not this time, this time, under the cover of the roaring storm and crashing lightning strikes she opens her mouth and just screams, and she keeps screaming until there is no voice left.
One of the toughest jobs I have ever encountered is that of being a parent.
I love my child, but eventually, he will not really need me,
I love my child, but eventually, his very own he has to be.
Just know this my son, my very beloved,
right here in my heart,
'tis where you'll always be.
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