Freaky Friday

I had a pretty late night yesterday because I was taking care of some stuff I put off--taxes, FAFSA, resume for an upcoming career fair, looking at summer internship sites (yeah, I have a pretty lame life)--and I figured that I could sleep in today and be late to church.

God had other plans.

I woke up at 8 (8:06, to be exact--I remember because I looked at those evil red lights on my alarm clock and was pretty pissed) to my mom yakking in the garbage can. I went out to see what was up, hoping to God it wasn't food poisoning because we had the same thing for dinner last night. That's the last thing I need right now. Luckily, it wasn't because I didn't feel sick at all, so I was sent to the store to get some ginger ale and gatorade. I got back at 8:21, still half asleep, fed my dog, and went back to bed until 10, when I usually wake up. Then I rushed to church.

When I got back, my mom still wasn't able to keep anything down, which was kinda scary because it was 4 hours later. I called the Kaiser advice nurse, who told me what to do and set up an appointment for the afternoon. Apparently, you're not supposed to drink a lot right after you vomit. You're supposed to wait an hour and then slowly take sips every five minutes until you can keep it down. I always drink a whole lot of water cuz I think I'm gonna be dehydrated.

It came around to the appointment time and she still wasn't doing any better, so I lined the car washing bucket with trash bags, brought it to the car along with an umbrella, and took my mom to the doctor. I actually had to get a wheelchair for her which is big cuz anyone who knows my mom knows she wouldn't be caught dead in a wheelchair unless she felt like she was dying. She's the lady at the gym who goes 100 miles an hour on a treadmill at the steepest incline and doesn't break a sweat. Anyway, we got to the doctor who was pretty cool, and it turns out that my mom only has a severe case of vertigo, which isn't contagious (PHEW!). A nurse gave her a phenergan shot in her buttcheek which made me laugh because I thought that only happened in movies for kicks. After the appointment, I wheelchaired her back to the car, went to the pharmacy to get her drugs, and drove home.

I settled down, and it was right when I was making Jello and porridge for her when I realized, "Crap. When did I learn how to do all this?" I mean, it's not a big deal, it's just that I never really saw myself doing for my parents what my parents do for their parents or for us. Freaky friday.

I don't wanna grow up.