Rita's Brain

1. The Trauma of my Momma

Last April my mother called me at 3:30 a.m. She wanted to know what time it was. I was sleeping. Of course I was sleeping. I let her know, I mean I emphatically let her know what time it was. The next morning her neighbor called me; mom had called her as well.

The next day I headed out on the freeway to her house . When I arrived, I found her at the kitchen table. Nodding off. The burner was left on and she didn't know it. She didn't even seem to care. This was distressing. My mother did not just leave the burners on. I have fond childhood memories of leaving on vacation in our family station wagon - my dad at the wheel, my sisters beside me. Within a block or two, after our departure, my mother would force us to return home. She always had to check the burners.

The burner was not the only problem. My mother seemed to be losing her vision, her balance and critical cognition skills. She couldn't read the calendar. She couldn't tell time. I was overwhelmed. I took my mom to the doctor after the weekend. He seemed confused by her symptoms. She was telling him so much. I told him two things: she needs an MRI of her brain and I need in-home help.

The next day I took her for the MRI. I sat in the office and watched The Blind Side. Sandra Bullock acted as the great white hope for the great big black teen. She coddled him and made him family. Meanwhile, my mother was held in a large metal tube, having her brain imaged. The term "X-ray," apparently, has fallen from favor, since nobody favors radiation. "Scanned" seems invasive. I would prefer "illuminated," but perhaps that connotes something more than a diagnostic procedure. I would also suggest a different film, maybe Fantastic Voyage. What a nice sentiment! Miniaturized scientists go into your brain and discover the problem. Little people could make you whole. Really little people. I wonder what the technicians would look like when scaled down to ant dimensions? What would they discuss while zipping through the gray matter? Hi ho hi ho, to the cerebral cortex we go.

When we arrived home from the imaging center, the doctor's office had already called about the home care. I got back to them, but while I was talking to the receptionist, the doctor intervened. He needed to talk to me. The MRI results were in; my mother had a brain tumor. It was large. He had already reserved a bed at the hospital.

I went into the kitchen to talk to mom, she had eaten half her lunch and was resting her head in her hand. When she saw me, she looked up and smiled slightly. She was sure she was feeling better. I let her finish her lunch before I gave her the news. I thought she would be upset, but she took it matter-of-factly. I gave her time to pack her things and to get everything in order. I wasn't sure if she would be coming back to her house.