Mama noticed I wasn’t looking too good and took my temperature. I had a fever, which we attributed to my sunburn. Mama scolded me for being in the sun too long, gave me some Tylenol, and rubbed me with some cool Aloe-Vera gel to soothe the burn. Then she told me to drink lots of liquids, and to “Stay out of the sun!”
The next day at my friend’s pool party, I had managed to stay in the shade for the most part, but I was not having a good time because I didn’t feel good. I ended up leaving after a couple of hours. I had not slept well the night before, due to the sunburn, and I felt really weak and drained. I was getting a serious headache as well, so I said good-bye and headed home.
I hardly remember the drive home that early summer afternoon. All I remember is that one of my hands tightly gripped the steering wheel of my Volkswagen Bug, while the other intensely squeezed my forehead, trying to pinch down the excruciating pain that was splitting open my skull.
I don’t even remember if I shifted gears. It’s a wonder how I arrived home safely. By the time I reached our driveway, my head was throbbing with the worst migraine I had ever had in my life! My temples were pounding so badly that I had to close my eyes at even the smallest ray of light, or it would send me reeling with pain! As I walked into the house, I could hardly see a thing.
I came in and headed straight for my bedroom. All I wanted to do was to lie down and close my eyes. I sat on the edge of my bed for a moment, holding my pounding head in my hands, trying to think what I might have done to cause me to feel so ill. ‘Is it the sunburn? Is it something I ate? Am I having some kind of allergic reaction?’ It seems I’ve been allergic to everything since the day I was born. But I couldn’t figure out what it might be.
I wasn’t a smoker, and I didn’t I use alcohol or drugs. I’d lost my Daddy to that stuff, so I had made a conscious choice throughout high school not to get tangled up in it. I thought of myself as a pretty good kid, and had a decent group of friends. I hadn’t done anything unusual that I could think of that would cause such a powerful pain in my head. So I figured I must be coming down with the flu and hoped I could sleep it off.
Mama had seen me come in and noticed I didn’t look so good. After a few minutes, she came in to check on me. “Honey, are you okay?” she asked. My skin was still tender and pink from the sunburn I’d gotten the day before, but the color of my face still looked different to my mother. She came closer and put her hand on my clammy forehead. “Honey, what’s wrong? Are you feeling sick?” I could hear her concern. “Mama, my head is pounding!” I groaned. “I feel horrible!” Mama took my temperature again, commenting that the whites in my eyes were looking very pink and buggy. I can only imagine what might have gone through my mother’s head. I must have looked like I was on drugs, but I wasn’t. I hadn’t been around any either.
“Well, you’re still running a fever,” Mama said sharply, “probably from your sunburn!” She disappeared for a moment and returned to give me some more Tylenol, and some water to keep me hydrated. Then she left my room to give my step-dad, Roger, the heads up. I took off my pants, climbed into my bed in just my t-shirt, and lay down to try to sleep.
Mama and Roger both returned to my room to look in on me. Roger bent down next to my bed and put the back of his big, calloused hand to my forehead to feel the fever. Then Mama smoothed the hair back off of my clammy cheek, and I listened to her and Roger both agree to keep checking on me throughout the afternoon and evening. They knew something wasn’t right. With my eyes pinched closed, I remember the anxiety in Mama’s voice when she said, “Honey, if you still feel sick during the night, come in and wake us up!” I nodded briefly and tried to sleep, but I think I eventually passed out from the pain ripping through my skull. I slept from two o’clock that afternoon, all the way through until about three-thirty the next morning when I woke up vomiting violently.
When Mama got up and dressed for work that morning, she and Roger came in to check on me. They found me coming out of the bathroom, looking like “death warmed over,” a phrase my step-siblings and I used to use when we were tossing out the insults. Mama looked very concerned. “Oh honey, are you still sick? Why didn’t you come wake us up?” she protested. I groaned. “Mama, I feel horrible! I barely made it out of bed to throw up again. I’ve been hugging this toilet for an hour! Plus, I started my period during the night, and have cramps on top!” I didn’t think it could get any worse.
Mama felt my forehead once more. Then she quickly shifted into her nurse mode, and went to get the thermometer again. My fever was now 103 degrees, and Mama looked worried. She wanted to stay and take care of me, but she needed to drop off my little sister at school and then head to work. Then, Roger came up from behind her and said, “Hon, you go on in to work. I’ll take her into Emergency at St. Agnes and have someone look at her. I’ll call you if it turns out to be anything serious.”
You must have spent so much time with your mother to know all the details of your story…. again, it’s a very powerful story and I encourage you to keep writing! wow!
maureen
Left by maureen on January 15th, 2007