Is there such a thing as a "normal" reaction?

My mom had a heart attack last weekend.

No, that's not code for something else, and it isn't a joke. My friends will be wondering, "Why didn't you tell us? We'd like to have offered some sympathy and words of encouragement". I have no answer. Mea culpa.

The mind is a peculiar thing. When my sister called to tell me Sunday morning, the expected thing happened (well, what I would expect): I got that buzzing in my head that I get when a situation is too stressful for me. The entire world falls away, time stops, and all I can sense is that buzzing. Same thing happens before job interviews, asking a girl out for the first time, that kinda thing. I'm sure you have similar reactions to whatever stresses you out the most. That's not the peculiar thing.

Once I absorbed the news and realized that I had to do or say something, that eerie, preternatural calm that you feel when consious thought is mostly gone and your reptile brain takes over... took over. Presumably I told her something sensible and then packed a bag and made my way to Nanaimo. That's not the peculiar thing either - we're getting there.

I got to the hospital and my mom was sitting up visiting with my dad, and didn't have an inordinate amount of equipment connected to her. OK, we can downgrade to Defcon 2. Between the two of them, they explained how it all came to pass and how things looked at present. Minor heart attack, likely due to a blocked artery on the heart (as opposed to in the heart - much worse). Prognosis is good; blood thinners, clear the blockage, better than before.

So I went back to my sister's place and filled her in (my dad wouldn't let her up - she had the flu), and we both relaxed and had a reasonably nice evening, all things considered. But the reptilian brain doesn't go down without a fight once it's been woken up. This tiny little thought entered my head, just before I went to sleep that night:

"You know this was just a dress rehersal for the real thing, right?"

It's one of those things that we occasionally think, but don't dare say. However, I'm not the superstitious type, so once I'd processed that thought the old ego defense came to the rescue and it's safely tucked away for another time when such a thought might be useful. Are thoughts like that ever useful? I dunno.

Anyhow, you'll be happy to know that it all went down pretty much the way the doc said it would back at Defcon 1: they shipped her down to Victoria for an angiogram, found & cleared the blockage with angioplasty, and my mom's back at home. Little tired, little freaked out, but probably in better shape than she was just before it happened. Happy endings do occur outside of Hollywood - they might not be as fabulous and captivating, but they're way better for being real.

Welcome home, Ma. Don't do that again, K?