On Saturday April 12th, 2014 we had plans to go to Purdue. It was the Purdue School of Nursing's 50th anniversary. There was a reception for the recipients of an award I had received when I graduated. Mom was going to go with me. I could've taken Spencer, but I wanted to take my mom. She had been there when I had originally received the award...one of my proudest moments.
We had plans to go to the reception then return to Indianapolis and eat at The Melting Pot. We had been planning to eat there for years. I had bought her gift cards for Christmases and birthdays to pay for it. We planned, but we never set a date. We had finally set a date for Saturday April 12th. We were finally going to go to The Melting Pot.
She called me on Friday and said, "I think we should cancel the dinner, I'm not hungry." What? How could she not be hungry? It's not even Saturday! How did she know she wasn't going to be hungry tomorrow? I was upset. I thought she was being dramatic. Wow, her depression had really gotten out of hand. She should have her Zoloft increased. I said fine, but I didn't cancel the reservation. She just needs to spend some time with me. I'll put her in a better mood and then she will want to eat.
She came on Saturday. She needed help with her dress. She had borrowed it from a friend. It was a black wrap dress her friend thought she would look good in. And she did, but she also looked so small. She's losing weight.
We drove to Purdue and parked in the parking garage across from the student union. We walked to the Union and she started to lag behind. Come on mom! Why is she being so slow? She had always been a fast walker. I was getting annoyed. She finally caught up with me and we walked inside. There were stairs. We were running late, I climbed them ahead of her. She got to the top, she had to pause, she had to rest. "I'm sorry Danielle," she said. She was out of breath. She looked panicked. "Are you having a panic attack Mom?" Sigh..she is being so dramatic. Why is she trying to ruin the night? Pull yourself together mom, I thought. "No," she said, "I'm just so short of breath."
We made it to the reception. It was nice. I wish I had one picture of my mom and I from that event and how lovely she looked in that dress, but I don't. Afterwards we went to the bathroom. I waited on her. I was chatting with two other young women, prior graduates. She started coughing. "Wow, that lady's cough is really bad," they remarked. "I know," I said, "That's my mom." We walked out of the building and discussed her cough. She was so embarrassed people had noticed. I told her to go to her doctor. I was sure she had COPD. She'd been a smoker since she was 19. She at least needed an inhaler. "You don't think I have cancer do you?" she asked. "Well, are you coughing up blood?" I asked. She said no. "Then you're probably fine." I said. I got the car and picked her up so she didn't have to walk far.
We did go to The Melting Pot. We had a great time. She raved about the new dress I wore.
The same dress I would wear to her funeral five months later.
We had three courses...cheese, salad, entrees. She had a glass of wine. She was happy. It was a wonderful night.
And she slept the whole next day.
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