Nothing Is Gonna Keep Me From Seeing Adam Lambert

I mentioned in my last hasty blog post that my mother was having a mini-crisis. She still is.

Maternal mini-crises are very time consuming. I visited her Tuesday and threatened to take her to the hospital, and I visited her Wednesday, on my way to New York City to see my friends Christy and Joyce (the three of us talked little but mother issues at dinner) and demanded that she eat lunch (which it turns out she didn't), and then yesterday morning, as the mini-crisis escalated, I took her, at her doctor's suggestion, to the emergency room, where we spent 8 delightful hours. Here are my favorite lines of dialogue from that visit.

Me: This is a nice place to visit, but I wouldn't want to live here.
My Mother: I'm not that keen on visiting either.

It took a nasty exchange with the doctor to get the hospital to admit my mother as a patient (she was literally too weak to get out of the chair she was sitting in; how did they think she was going to manage on her own at home?), and several of the eight hours were spent waiting for the paperwork to be completed, the room to be readied, and a staff member to be available to take her from one end of the hospital to the other. During which time the only food my mother had to eat was a turkey sandwich (she ate half), and that only because I practically begged for some food for her (she'd been sitting in the emergency room for 6 hours at that point). The only alternative was a ham and cheese sandwich, which, since my mother keeps kosher, was completely unacceptable. I suppose they just let vegetarians starve to death.

Some of the nursing staff was extremely nice, but on the whole, the experience was less than fabulous.

I just spoke to my mother, who was eating breakfast and complaining her eggs were cold and she never eats eggs for breakfast. Since the problem has been that she's stopped eating the past few days, I told her she had to eat the eggs, like it or not. With any luck, my adoring but threatening voice was enough to convince her to devour her meal.

I don't know how long she'll be in the hospital, since they weren't all that eager to admit her in the first place. What I do know is my American Idol concert ticket is for Saturday night, and I really really really want to go.

Not that I don't love my mother, mind you. I mean, if I were on a sinking ship with her and Adam Lambert and I had to choose which one to save...well, I can't swim, so Adam Lambert had just better save both of us. On occasion, it's more fun to be rescued than to rescue.

On that profound note, I'm now going to eat breakfast and answer all the emails and blog comments that I haven't had a chance to respond to over the past few days. My brother is taking the day off from work, so I'll see him as well as my mother. Maybe we can tag team bully my mother into getting some nourishment in her system.

As my mother says, we're charter members of the Never A Dull Moment Society!