![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
MCM Birmingham, Part I
Aug. 15th, 2026 01:02 pmWhen I posted my last update before Birmingham on Friday afternoon, I had no idea what was in store for the rest of the evening. I was incredibly excited, of course, but my first thought was really just hoping that everything we’d planned — the drive with the taxi, the flight, the arrival time, the hotel, and so on — would go smoothly.
I packed my suitcase late in the afternoon, which turned into quite an adventure because Ivi decided that this was her new bed. ;D
I’d open the suitcase — BAM — in jumps Ivi. I’d take the cat out, reach for my clothes - BAM - Ivi’s back in the suitcase; I’d put the cat down - BAM - Ivi’s sitting on my clothes. ;D
And when I finally closed the suitcase, there she was, sitting right on top like the Queen of Sheba. ;D
I think I should just stop buying cat beds for Ivi and simply leave an open suitcase in the room instead. That seems to work. ;D
My mom and I spent the evening chilling on the couch and around 10PM, I went to my room and spent some time on Discord voice chat with Vin, Ace and Sushimi. It was just past 11PM when my mom suddenly came into my room, apologized and said she needed my help. I turned down my headset, took it off and looked at her inquiringly.
She told me she was worried about her swollen foot.
"Is my leg swollen?"
I took a look but didn't know what to say. It was a bit swollen, but I’m no doctor and certainly can’t make a diagnosis. I do remember her having swollen feet last summer, though, and I think it can be caused by the heat. But like I said, I’m no doctor. There is a hotline for the medical on-call service — for finding a doctor or making an appointment — and I thought she could call it; maybe someone there could help her. She asked if I could do it for her, so I did. But, of course, there was just an automated message telling callers to contact emergency services or an emergency doctor. My mother didn't want to do that, though... because she wanted to fly to Birmingham. But there was the — perhaps - well-founded—concern about a blood clot; and you simply can't fly with one of those without risking your life. I told her again that we should call an emergency doctor or go to the hospital. She refused both options and that kind of stubbornness just drives me crazy. I feel so terribly helpless in situations like that, and to keep from losing my cool, I end up getting angry and even mean. :/
I kept telling her I didn't know how to help her. Then she started to cry and said, "I didn't want to tell you, but earlier today, when I went to the pharmacy, I almost lost consciousness. I couldn't catch my breath and could barely walk up the stairs."
That was the moment I said, "Okay, that’s it. I’m calling an emergency doctor now."
And that’s what I did. The person on the line immediately asked for the address and name before I could even explain what had happened. I was quickly told that no emergency doctor would be sent because the situation wasn't immediately life-threatening. Understandable.
But he strongly urged us to go to the hospital to get it checked out. So, I decided that was exactly what we would do. I thanked him for the call and told my mother to get dressed. Then I called a taxi, which arrived to pick us up five minutes later. And as I sat alone in the back seat, my throat felt increasingly tight, and I could barely breathe. But I didn't say anything, since we had already arrived at the hospital and went straight to the doctor on duty.
It was an older woman who examined my mother while she was crying. She was also extremely agitated — understandably so, given the fear of having a thrombosis and not being allowed to fly.
As for me, I was a complete nervous wreck.
So Mom was examined (blood pressure taken, heart and lungs listened to) and then the doctor said she suspected my mother had not only a thrombosis but also obvious heart rhythm irregularities and atrial fibrillation. So we went straight to the emergency room, where at least twenty people were ahead of us waiting for a doctor or an examination. To my surprise, a nurse took my mother in after just two minutes — much to the annoyance of some of the others waiting. And I wasn't allowed to go with my mother, either.
After we’d checked in at the ER, I briefly sent Mom outside and asked — my voice trembling — if they happened to have a paper bag I could breathe into, because I’d been in the grip of a panic attack for at least twenty minutes.
But no, they had neither a paper bag nor any idea how to help me. All they said was, "We’ll take care of your mother. She’ll be fine."
…
And then I sat in a corner outside and cried. I messaged Jutta, and when she suggested a phone call, I said no because I knew I’d completely lose my composure if I had to speak. At the same time, I was chatting with Bel, who guided me through breathing exercises to calm me down. I waited about thirty minutes before the nurse came out and called me over.
She led me into the trauma room (just seeing the label on the door made me cry), where my mom was lying on a gurney, hooked up to numerous tubes and monitors. Then the nurse left us alone, and my first question was: "Okay, how serious is it? Is there a risk you might die?"
I know that sounds strange — and perhaps even highly inappropriate — to many people, but I cope better with situations when I know exactly where I stand. There’s a part of me that can kick into gear then. Sort of.
Mom was still crying and I’d feared the worst, but she told me they’d only drawn blood so far; the comprehensive blood panel would take about an hour and a half to two hours, and we’d have to wait for the results. It was 12:20AM by then.
Naturally, she was hooked up to all the monitors; I’d seen her blood pressure (normal) and her heart rate — which had calmed down over time.
And then we had to wait — and we grew closer again in the process. I knew Mom had really wanted to go to Birmingham — partly for my sake — and felt terrible and guilty because it meant I wouldn’t see Neil. But I told myself, that’s just how it is. Neil isn’t more important than my mother’s health. And it was absolutely clear to me that the trip wasn’t going to happen anymore.
Shortly after 2AM, a female doctor appeared, wheeling in an ultrasound machine. My mother was still very agitated and scared, so I can understand why she didn’t catch everything the first time around. The doctor was also quite rude, which I didn’t appreciate. But I focused on Mom - holding her hand, helping her undress, rubbing her back and trying to calm her down.
There were no signs of thrombosis but the doctor suggested Mom stay in the hospital overnight and be examined again between 8 and 10AM next morning. If nothing pointed to thrombosis then either, she’d get the all-clear to fly.
We agreed but I was certain the Birmingham trip was now a thing of the past. I asked about the condition of her heart and the doctor replied that there were absolutely no signs of heart problems.
The only issue that had come up was a blood clotting problem (a small one), so they wanted to be on the safe side and keep her there overnight.
We said our goodbyes, hugged and I left the emergency room. The man at the reception desk saw how exhausted I was and offered to call me a taxi — an offer I gratefully accepted.
I got home at 3AM, barely managed to undress and collapsed onto the sofa in exhaustion (I’ve been sleeping in the living room since the heatwave started because I can open the balcony door there). I was terrified — absolutely terrified — that something might happen and I wouldn't be by her side. Yet, to my own surprise, I tried to calm myself down with the thought: "Anke, if no one calls you, it means nothing has happened."
In the end, I was so exhausted that I fell asleep and didn't wake up until 9AM. I messaged my mom on WhatsApp, but I didn't get a reply.
I had spoken to Jutta on the phone the evening before and asked if she was still willing to come over, even if we couldn't make the trip to Birmingham. She said it was no problem at all.
So, I waited.
Shortly after 10AM, my mom called to say she was waiting for her second ultrasound. We talked about the trip and I suggested calling the taxi company to ask if they could pick us up forty-five minutes later. So, that’s what we did.
Around 11AM, the doorbell rang, and Jutta came up the stairs. She was surprised to see that I still hadn't received any news from my mom or the hospital.
About 15 minutes later, my mom called to tell me she had been examined and given the all-clear to fly.
I couldn't believe it.
Normally, the taxi was supposed to pick us up at 12:30PM - before I pushed the pickup time back - and my mom got home at exactly 12:25PM. She quickly changed and got ready, and then it was time to leave the apartment and wait for the taxi.
Part II will follow soon. And if you have read this, thank you so, so much!!
Much love,
Anke~
I packed my suitcase late in the afternoon, which turned into quite an adventure because Ivi decided that this was her new bed. ;D
I’d open the suitcase — BAM — in jumps Ivi. I’d take the cat out, reach for my clothes - BAM - Ivi’s back in the suitcase; I’d put the cat down - BAM - Ivi’s sitting on my clothes. ;D
And when I finally closed the suitcase, there she was, sitting right on top like the Queen of Sheba. ;D
I think I should just stop buying cat beds for Ivi and simply leave an open suitcase in the room instead. That seems to work. ;D
My mom and I spent the evening chilling on the couch and around 10PM, I went to my room and spent some time on Discord voice chat with Vin, Ace and Sushimi. It was just past 11PM when my mom suddenly came into my room, apologized and said she needed my help. I turned down my headset, took it off and looked at her inquiringly.
She told me she was worried about her swollen foot.
"Is my leg swollen?"
I took a look but didn't know what to say. It was a bit swollen, but I’m no doctor and certainly can’t make a diagnosis. I do remember her having swollen feet last summer, though, and I think it can be caused by the heat. But like I said, I’m no doctor. There is a hotline for the medical on-call service — for finding a doctor or making an appointment — and I thought she could call it; maybe someone there could help her. She asked if I could do it for her, so I did. But, of course, there was just an automated message telling callers to contact emergency services or an emergency doctor. My mother didn't want to do that, though... because she wanted to fly to Birmingham. But there was the — perhaps - well-founded—concern about a blood clot; and you simply can't fly with one of those without risking your life. I told her again that we should call an emergency doctor or go to the hospital. She refused both options and that kind of stubbornness just drives me crazy. I feel so terribly helpless in situations like that, and to keep from losing my cool, I end up getting angry and even mean. :/
I kept telling her I didn't know how to help her. Then she started to cry and said, "I didn't want to tell you, but earlier today, when I went to the pharmacy, I almost lost consciousness. I couldn't catch my breath and could barely walk up the stairs."
That was the moment I said, "Okay, that’s it. I’m calling an emergency doctor now."
And that’s what I did. The person on the line immediately asked for the address and name before I could even explain what had happened. I was quickly told that no emergency doctor would be sent because the situation wasn't immediately life-threatening. Understandable.
But he strongly urged us to go to the hospital to get it checked out. So, I decided that was exactly what we would do. I thanked him for the call and told my mother to get dressed. Then I called a taxi, which arrived to pick us up five minutes later. And as I sat alone in the back seat, my throat felt increasingly tight, and I could barely breathe. But I didn't say anything, since we had already arrived at the hospital and went straight to the doctor on duty.
It was an older woman who examined my mother while she was crying. She was also extremely agitated — understandably so, given the fear of having a thrombosis and not being allowed to fly.
As for me, I was a complete nervous wreck.
So Mom was examined (blood pressure taken, heart and lungs listened to) and then the doctor said she suspected my mother had not only a thrombosis but also obvious heart rhythm irregularities and atrial fibrillation. So we went straight to the emergency room, where at least twenty people were ahead of us waiting for a doctor or an examination. To my surprise, a nurse took my mother in after just two minutes — much to the annoyance of some of the others waiting. And I wasn't allowed to go with my mother, either.
After we’d checked in at the ER, I briefly sent Mom outside and asked — my voice trembling — if they happened to have a paper bag I could breathe into, because I’d been in the grip of a panic attack for at least twenty minutes.
But no, they had neither a paper bag nor any idea how to help me. All they said was, "We’ll take care of your mother. She’ll be fine."
…
And then I sat in a corner outside and cried. I messaged Jutta, and when she suggested a phone call, I said no because I knew I’d completely lose my composure if I had to speak. At the same time, I was chatting with Bel, who guided me through breathing exercises to calm me down. I waited about thirty minutes before the nurse came out and called me over.
She led me into the trauma room (just seeing the label on the door made me cry), where my mom was lying on a gurney, hooked up to numerous tubes and monitors. Then the nurse left us alone, and my first question was: "Okay, how serious is it? Is there a risk you might die?"
I know that sounds strange — and perhaps even highly inappropriate — to many people, but I cope better with situations when I know exactly where I stand. There’s a part of me that can kick into gear then. Sort of.
Mom was still crying and I’d feared the worst, but she told me they’d only drawn blood so far; the comprehensive blood panel would take about an hour and a half to two hours, and we’d have to wait for the results. It was 12:20AM by then.
Naturally, she was hooked up to all the monitors; I’d seen her blood pressure (normal) and her heart rate — which had calmed down over time.
And then we had to wait — and we grew closer again in the process. I knew Mom had really wanted to go to Birmingham — partly for my sake — and felt terrible and guilty because it meant I wouldn’t see Neil. But I told myself, that’s just how it is. Neil isn’t more important than my mother’s health. And it was absolutely clear to me that the trip wasn’t going to happen anymore.
Shortly after 2AM, a female doctor appeared, wheeling in an ultrasound machine. My mother was still very agitated and scared, so I can understand why she didn’t catch everything the first time around. The doctor was also quite rude, which I didn’t appreciate. But I focused on Mom - holding her hand, helping her undress, rubbing her back and trying to calm her down.
There were no signs of thrombosis but the doctor suggested Mom stay in the hospital overnight and be examined again between 8 and 10AM next morning. If nothing pointed to thrombosis then either, she’d get the all-clear to fly.
We agreed but I was certain the Birmingham trip was now a thing of the past. I asked about the condition of her heart and the doctor replied that there were absolutely no signs of heart problems.
The only issue that had come up was a blood clotting problem (a small one), so they wanted to be on the safe side and keep her there overnight.
We said our goodbyes, hugged and I left the emergency room. The man at the reception desk saw how exhausted I was and offered to call me a taxi — an offer I gratefully accepted.
I got home at 3AM, barely managed to undress and collapsed onto the sofa in exhaustion (I’ve been sleeping in the living room since the heatwave started because I can open the balcony door there). I was terrified — absolutely terrified — that something might happen and I wouldn't be by her side. Yet, to my own surprise, I tried to calm myself down with the thought: "Anke, if no one calls you, it means nothing has happened."
In the end, I was so exhausted that I fell asleep and didn't wake up until 9AM. I messaged my mom on WhatsApp, but I didn't get a reply.
I had spoken to Jutta on the phone the evening before and asked if she was still willing to come over, even if we couldn't make the trip to Birmingham. She said it was no problem at all.
So, I waited.
Shortly after 10AM, my mom called to say she was waiting for her second ultrasound. We talked about the trip and I suggested calling the taxi company to ask if they could pick us up forty-five minutes later. So, that’s what we did.
Around 11AM, the doorbell rang, and Jutta came up the stairs. She was surprised to see that I still hadn't received any news from my mom or the hospital.
About 15 minutes later, my mom called to tell me she had been examined and given the all-clear to fly.
I couldn't believe it.
Normally, the taxi was supposed to pick us up at 12:30PM - before I pushed the pickup time back - and my mom got home at exactly 12:25PM. She quickly changed and got ready, and then it was time to leave the apartment and wait for the taxi.
Part II will follow soon. And if you have read this, thank you so, so much!!
Much love,
Anke~
