I need to start this a few days ago, so you understand why my grandson was with me in the kitchen alone on a Thursday night...
It's nothing ... really.
I had a little medical issue on Wednesday. My heart was racing, I was having palpitations, sweating and flushed. I was getting a tad confused. I was scared. It happened on and off all day and by 2:00 in the afternoon, I left work and took myself to the hospital. I was strapped to monitors, injected with IV's, oxygen forced up my nose. Then my daughter called.
Daughter: "Whatcha doing momma?"
Me: "Just laying down, thinking of taking a nap."
Daughter: "At work Momma?"
Me: "I'm not at work right now, I took the rest of the day off work."
Daughter: "Why is that momma? Where are you?"
Me: "In the hospital, I'm sorta tangled up in IV's and wires, this air thing in my nose is annoying me."
Daughter: "I'll call you right back!"
I did take a nap. About an hour later my precious daughter walked in the room. I filled her in on my day. She was white with worry. I assured her there is nothing to worry about, so far the tests are all good.
Daughter: "Momma, I tell you what, I'm so mad at with you right now, I could spit nails. You call me when you have a cold, but you let this slide by?"
Me: "Sorry. I was gonna call if there was something wrong with me."
Daughter: "There is...."
Me: "I mean with my heart." The verdict is in...I am normal.
Nothing could be found that was abnormal. I was sent home with a heart monitor strapped to my chest for 24 hours. My daughter drove me home. She called my mom to come get her, she wanted to stay and needed to go get the baby. Then the hospital called me. You need to come back to the hospital tonight, they told me. There was something wrong with my heart, but it wasn't my heart that started it. As is turned out, my potassium was so low it interfered with my heart. Two huge potassium pills later and I was good to go. My daughter wasn't convinced. She remained glued to me since Wednesday afternoon. I really am okay. Thank God it was an easy fix.
It's difficult walking with children glued to me.
So I went through my next day at work, with my grandson and daughter by my side, making sure I wasn't going to die. I didn't and we had fun. I was back at the hospital after 5:00 p.m. to get the monitor off. Then we came home, ate dinner and played. Booger loves my red broom. He loves to "clean" my kitchen. He doesn't let it go when he's here. Later in the evening my daughter went to the store for milk. She left me and Booger in the kitchen. I was drinking coffee and the Boog was in his highchair having chocolate milk and Ritz crackers. The broom propped next to his highchair. Then out of the depths of hell came the sound I know I dread. . .
"Wha-pa wha-pa, wha-pa ee-ee-ee"
The broom dance begins at 9:30 on Thursday night.
Three thoughts ran through my head simultaneously.
1.) RUN!
2.) Don't scare the Boog.
3.) OH SHIT OH SHIT Oh Shit Oh Shit oh shit oh shit ohshitohshitohshitohshitohshit!!!
I snatched up the broom, did the door dance, and ran to stand guard over the Boog. My thoughts were fierce, "I dare you motherfucker, to come near him." The bat swooped by us and I crouched down swinging the broom over my head. It flew into the living room, circled and flew back. I gripped the broom tighter and swung it. The bat went into the laundry room. I snatched the baby out of the high chair and ran outside. I stood waiting for my daughter. This was not the night for her to go visiting!
The skeeters were biting him, he didn't want to be outside. He wanted to be inside with Ritz crackers and chocolate milk. Shit! After about 15 minutes, I took him inside. I put him back in the highchair. I did this with hairs standing straight up on the back of my neck, goose bumps running tracks around my body. I sat, made high squeaky baby-talk to him. Boog just looked at me confused. He didn't like the "Granny Broom Dance" I had performed for him. The crackers caught his attention, and then...."Wha-pa wha-pa, wha-pa ee-ee-ee" ... it was back. I ducked and covered the Boog. I swung the broom and out of the corner of my I saw it fly out the door!
VICTORY WAS MINE!!!
Oh, I bragged to my daughter when she walked in, milk in hand. I called my mom who shared in my victory. Sweet victory that took an 18 month old baby to help me overcome a deep seeded fear. I guess my deep seeded need to protect overpowered the fear of the winged devil.
Ding Dong the bat was gone, the wicked bat, the ungodly bat.. .
I went to sleep with a smile on my face.
love me later~tj
