CANCER?

IT'S A ROLLER COASTER

In the past week, my mom has acted even more like her old self. She tells me to straighten up the room. She curses at me. She watches soap operas. 

And in the past two days, she has walked. Not very fast and not very far. But still. 

I wonder more and more: Is she still sick?  She has no pain. She barely uses the breathing machine. 

I showed her outside. She tells me about all the people who live across the street. 

And another thing that makes it seem like she is suddenly healed is that she has no recollection of her hospital stay or the week before when she hit rock bottom or the week after the hospital. 

But she remembers everything before that and everything since then. It's like those weeks never happened. 

In those blank weeks, she couldn't move her feet. Now she's walking. In those blank weeks, she refused or didn't want to eat. Now she makes requests. Before, she couldn't tell what she was looking at two feet in front of her. Now she recognizes characters on TV. 

What the heck?

THE TINA CURSING CORNER

It's back! 

My mom was anxious to leave her hospital bed. I told her it was too late for that. Maybe tomorrow. "Well Mr. Gene. You can go fuck yourself or do whatever the fuck you want to. Because I am going to the bathroom."

Mom thinks I messed with her computer during her blank time. "Who fucked up my shit?"

She did get a little confused the other day and thought a friend of mine took her computer. So maybe she's not completely back. "That little shit took it. And if that motherfucker comes back here, I'm gonna take my 38 special and fucking shoot him."

SHE SAYS SHE'S BORED

FORTNIGHT OF THROW UP AND NORMALCY

It's been two weeks since I've written an update about my mom's condition and non-sensical ranting. 

The first of those weeks seemed to end the illusions. In fact, Mom hardly talked at all. She kind of just stared holes through me. 

She refused to take her medicine. She claimed I didn't love her. She wouldn't answer questions. And she could not stop vomitting. 

We had this bucket she would just fill up and fill up full of vomit. She drank coke and water and barfed it all up. Not food really. 

That's because she didn't eat for eight straight days. EIGHT. Finally, this past Saturday, she woke up, looked around and said: "Chinese on Carrollton."

That meant egg rolls from Chinese Kitchen, one of her all-time favorite meals. So off I went to Chinese Kitchen, where little Chinese ladies serve Chinese food to the surrounding black community and the occasional whitey, like me. 

They don't give you your change until the food is ready, which is just so strange to me. You should go there and stand around for an hour. Just a fascinating world. 

Mom ate off the Chinese food twice Saturday and then Sunday and Monday. I also got her barbecue pork and shrimp fried rice. 

And for the past few days mom has mostly been normal -- complaining about the neighbors, wishing she was in her own bed and requesting Italian food. Except for the fact she can't walk, it's hard to tell anything is actually wrong with her. 

It doesn't seem like she's getting worse. 

CRAZY SHIT TINA SAYS

Before the vomitting stage, mom had these beauties. 

Mom: How long have you been here?

Me: Been where?

Mom: In prison. 

Mom: When are the police coming to get me?

Me: Police? What you do?

Mom: What did I do? Ha. 

Mom: You're not going to believe this, but the first thing I noticed when I walked into the police station was the blanket. 

After the vomiting period ended -- it just stopped, can't explain it -- mom had these things to say. 

Mom (after Chinese): No dessert?

Me: We have king cake. 

Mom: That's bullshit. Fucking overrated donut. 

Mom: That whole week where I went to do the volleyball thing was like what the fuck. She's walking around like she knew what the fuck she was doing. She knew when to go to the bathroom, when not to go to the bathroom. The whole works. 

Mom tells me to look for her suitcase in the bathroom. I tell her I can't find it. 

Mom: Call my phone number. Jesus. Do something. 

NICOLE CHEATED ON ME

Before you overreact, let's start by saying that this is according to my mom. 

Mom claims that the other day when I was at work, Nicole brought a dude over to mom's house. And didn't care that mom caught her. 

"I come home. David goes in the door first. And then I come in. There they are. And they're like, 'Hehehehehehe.' They're laughing at me. And Nicole is like, 'Hi, sweetie. You're looking better.' "

By the way, mom's Nicole impression is hilarious. She also told me not to tell Nicole that she told me about Nicole's infidelity. Of course, I did anyway. 

I also had to reassure mom that we were still together. She thought it was over. 

SHE DID EAT SOME KING CAKE

ESCAPE FROM THE HOSPITAL BED

It's been a week since my mom was returned home from the hospice because it was decided her situation was under control and she no longer needed the home. 

Sure, tell that to me every morning when she awakes -- anywhere from 3 a.m. to 10 a.m. -- and restarts her maddening pursuit of escaping her hospital bed. 

She did so without my help twice Tueaday. Her will is so feeaking strong you can't keep her in the bed. It's both frustrating and impressive. 

Unfortunately, she can't walk, so when she does escape the bed, she just collapses onto the floor. More anguishing is that once she is returned to the bed, she is hellbent on getting back out, like she didn't just lay helplessly on the floor for the past six hours. 

One time on Tuesday, she did organize a master plan, like she was Andy in Shawshank. She crawled from the floor to the bump that goes up to the living room, ordered me to get her a pillow, then laid on said pillow and planked her way over the bump. 

Before she had escaped from the bed, she had had me spread a blanket on the hard living room floor. Now with her pillow, she started sliding across the living room like she was going head first down a waterpark slide. 

She got halfway across the living room before I stopped her. It was so freaking impressive, like when Baxter ate the whole wheel of cheese in Anchorman. 

"No one leaves here until my ass gets in the shower," she vehemently declared. 

She was headed all the way to the bathroom down the hall, which is pretty much her life mission now. It's like if she gets to the bathroom, she has escaped prison. 

It took forever to get her back in the bed and calmed down. And you guessed it, she was doggedly trying to get out of the bed a few hours later. 

Here are some other things mom has said in the past week. FYI, her condition hasn't really changed much. 

-- Do you know where you are?

Mom: Yeah. 

Me: Where?

Mom: Kim's house?

-- I tell her the pills are good for her. "You're fucking lying. You're fucking lying."

-- If y'all don't turn these machines off, I'm gonna bonk y'all over the freaking  head. 

Me: What machines?

Mom (motioning): Over the head. 

-- Where's our mom?

Me: Whose mom?

Mom: Ours. 

Me: We don't have the same mom. 

Mom: Where is she?

Me: You're my mom. 

Mom: I know. Where's our mom?

Me: Whose mom?

Mom: Yours, mine and his (looking at dad.)

Me: We all have the same mom?

Mom: Yes. Where is she?

-- I need to make a phone call. 

Me (giving her her phone): Ok. 

Mom (putting phone upside down to her ear without dialing): Hello? Hello?

Me: Mom, who you wanna call?

Mom: (looking at phone): How do you work this shit?

-- How can she be itching? She's a two-dollar bill. 

-- I'll send you to school with a dirty diaper. 

-- I won't have a job before all this is over. 

Me: What about after this is over? Will you have a job then?

Mom: Probably. 

-- I'm gonna kill him. 

Me: But I'm about to leave. 

Mom: I don't give a shit where you go. ... Come here. 

She then tries to choke me with her feet.