Previous Challenge Entry (Level 3 - Advanced)
Topic: EMBARRASS(ED) (11/03/16)
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TITLE: Mayhem On Queensbury | Previous Challenge Entry
By Teresa Odden
11/09/16 -
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My mother’s reservations were two-fold. She didn’t have her license and was concerned having an outsider in the car when my father drank and drove. Her biggest fear, however, was the uncertainty what would happen inviting someone from church to spend the day with us.
Thoughts of dad’s drunken behavior brought fear of gossip and embarrassment. Family secrets were meant to remain within the four walls of our home at 3919 Queensbury Road.
Though my mother had a lot of trepidation, I saw a glimmer of hope. If a friend from church joined, perhaps dad would be on his best behavior and wouldn’t get drunk. Regardless of the “what if’s,” this was going to be a special day for me.
Monday morning came and I was slowly waking up, but something was different. I was barely conscious and for a split second I saw my friend’s father standing in an unfamiliar setting. I didn’t know what was going on.
When I became aware of my surroundings, I was lying in a hospital bed. I had no idea how I got there. My parents began sharing with me the events of the morning. It started around 6:30am when my mother yelled, “Help, Teresa’s choking on her tongue.”
My mother rushed to call 911 and my dad, concerned I would choke to death, stuck his fingers into my mouth. He pried my mouth open and reached in. Being in a state of unconsciousness, I clenched my teeth and chomped down on his fingers, cutting to the bone. It didn’t help him that I wore braces.
When the paramedics arrived, they began assisting my mother who had passed out in the living room. Someone in the house yelled, “not her, in here.” I had no idea the chaos that had taken place, but there was laughter as I could picture the scene playing out.
After a week of tests, I was diagnosed with epilepsy and sent home. For me, life went on as usual, with one exception. I needed to take medication twice a day. Before I walked out the door each day I was not only asked by my mother if I brushed my teeth, but she added, “did you take your medication?” It didn’t end there.
The first time I went to youth camp after being hospitalized, I opened my suitcase to find a note taped to the mirror: “Don’t forget to take your medicine. Love mom.” Awkward!
I didn’t understand what it meant to have convulsions, therefore, I tried to quickly hide the note to prevent someone asking me what the medicine was for. I was mortified at the thought of having to explain what I knew little of.
I was too young to understand the importance of managing my illness and in my case, there is no known cause for why I have epilepsy. Still, I hated it when she reminded me to take my pills and it wasn’t until I moved out of my parent’s home in 1985 when the humiliation of these reminders from mom ceased.
Unlike many with epilepsy, if I take medication as prescribed, my seizures are controlled. Mom knew adhering to doctors instructions was critical to living a productive life with a chronic illness. Thankfully, I grew up and appreciated mom’s annoying reminders.
The glimpse I saw of my friend’s father that morning was when I was being wheeled in to the emergency room from the ambulance. Immediately upon hearing the news, he drove to the hospital and waited. My father never forgot the kindness of this man who took time to be with our family and pray for his daughter. He brought God’s peace with him, not fear.
Our family had many laughs from that Monday morning in 1978 and the mayhem that took place while paramedics tried to find the one who needed aid. The brain is a funny thing. To this day when I’m in a disoriented state after having a seizure, my husband will ask me two questions primarily because he finds humor in my response. “What’s your name?” “Where do you live?” I answer the same, so I’m told; with my maiden name and my childhood address where I was on that Memorial Day in 1978: “Teresa Patrick. 3919 Queensbury.”
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