By Janine Milliken

Monday morning and my mom and I are sick. My dad had to be the taxi driver at 0730am today and take us both to the Doctor. Thankfully, the Doctor is very accommodating with our annoying family and we can phone and literally go and see him. My dad's driving on the other hand is a bit hairy scary and just as well I was vomiting and not watching the road.

My mom was lying on the backseat of the car telling us she was in so much pain. I was slumped over in the front of the car telling everyone I was going to vomit. My mom quickly handed me something I could vomit in, I looked at it and it was a teeny, tiny box that would actually fit in my mouth, never mind me vomiting in it. I decided the window was better and had my head out the window, hope nobody I knew saw this display of us idiots.

The traffic was horrendous and we patiently had to wait for all the robots, all the emergency taxis and the school parents. We waited for 10 minutes, which seemed like a lifetime when one is vomiting out the window and the other one is lying on the back seat moaning in pain.

My poor dad is used to this behavior and I honestly think my mom and I can be drama queens as well. So my dad took everything in his stride, ignored us and got us to the Doctor as soon as he could.

When my dad had typhoid, he fainted onto their bed at 4:00am and my mom came running through to my bedroom shouting that dad was not well. I shot clean out of bed, ran to my dad, looked at him, then ran out the cottage and ran round the flower bed. I got my phone and called my sister and all I managed to say was ‘Dad has collapsed’ and I put the phone down. My poor sister, did not know what was going on and could not phone me back as I had ditched my phone in the flower bed.

In my panic I stupidly said to my mom that I have seen many dead people, many people have died on me and that dad did not look dead, so for now we were ok. I thought I was comforting my mother, instead she told me I was a ‘box’ and could we get dad to the trauma centre. We rushed him to trauma. My mom and I were both talking at the same time and not making much sense, so my dad was taken to the bed and put on a drip immediately until my mom and I had calmed down. I think my cellphone was still in the flower bed at this stage.

We called the family as we were not sure he was going to make it through the day, not sure if this is us being drama queens again. I sat with my dad the whole day in my pyjamas and watched him. I did get bored, so pinched some rubber gloves, blew them up, drew faces on them and started hitting them around the room. My mom now told me to behave as I am 45 years old, but this was too much fun for me now. I went and looked around the rest of the trauma centre to see what I could play with. If you just use your imagination anything can be played with and entertain you, as I found out.

Finally my dad was discharged that evening. He was so much better. My mom and I had calmed down. I found the cellphone in the flower bed. My sister told me to never do that again, and could I stay on the phone long enough to tell her what is wrong.

When my dad arrived home he was relieved that he did not have to watch me anymore blowing up gloves, putting them over my head and being stupid. He recovered quickly.

As I was at the trauma centre the the whole day, I decided to go find people to talk to. I walked over to the pharmacy, I told the one gentleman working there, if he gave my dad some cattle I would marry him. Everyone in the pharmacy thought this was hilarious and when I visit them to this day, they still laugh about me and I am given VIP treatment. The gentleman has never come up with the cattle so maybe that is his polite way of saying that I am too old.
I then visited the dentist who is also at the trauma centre and asked if he needed a second wife, but I would only be his wife if he was a millionaire. He declined my offer very politely, yet again I think I am too old for these poor men that I keep asking. I finally ended up in the jet fuel room, where the ladies are very nice and we had such a laugh about me and my mouth. When I go to the trauma centre to this day, I am greeted by everyone, which is actually a good thing, as they remember me. Not sure if they think I am funny or a pain in the bottom. Finally I thought I would chance my luck and see if the owner of the place was in his office, as I had never been in there. I knocked at his door and he let me in. I sat in his office and actually had an intelligent conversation with him.
Now that I had met everyone, been everywhere, it was time to go back to my dad, who was hallucinating and telling me he wanted to die. I had to tell him that he could not die just yet, as he could not possibly leave me alone with Mama Mia. I do not know how to cook (my dad does this), I do not know how to make tea (my dad does this), I do not know how to shop (my dad does this). As I was listing all this and thinking about it, I realized my poor dad did everything and my mom and I did nothing. We would, therefore, be joining him in heaven sooner rather than later. I then had a melt down and sobbed and my poor dad had to pull himself together to show me he was going to be ok.

The next day, everything went back to normal. My dad had recovered, I had recovered and my mom was cleaning the house – she does this when she is worried. The cleaning carried on for the whole day as well as furniture being moved all over the place – this is my mom’s way of coping. However, she does not do this on her own, I am called in to move things, clean things and asked if it looks better or should we move it back? I always reply it looks better in the new place as I am too knackered to move it back? Should my dad ever go blind he will never find the toilet as furniture is moved on a weekly basis.

I have to tell you that I am so blessed to have a young man staying in my house. It is my nephew, and he stays here during the week to save petrol. He goes to the University of Zimbabwe and is studying Computer Science. I have given my nephew my king size bed, tv, dstv, wi-fi and Netflix so that he can feel at home and keep busy. I have moved into the cottage with my folks, small sacrifice to make for my nephew who I will move heaven and earth for. I must thank my sister for sharing her boy with me and allowing me to mother him for the week.

There is a problem, in that this nephew and I are so alike in our thinking, that it is actually dangerous to put us together. We come up with great schemes, pranks and jokes and we do not think of the repercussions of our actions. Although our actions are pretty funny. We also have a horror movie fetish and so feed each other’s mind with scary things then we do not sleep as we too scared!

I have to say everyone is healthy right now. We have had no trauma centre visits, the only thing happening is me getting my daily injections from my Doctor, which is not serious. The worst part of going to the Doctor is my mom or dad drive me there, that is proving to be very traumatic especially in rush hour traffic. My mom talks to herself the whole way to the Doctor and drives at 60km/hr. My dad swears at the other drivers and drives at 80km/hr. I like to tease them, but they both drive very well. So I am very safe in their hands, I will be sleeping in a new bed tonight and I am off to take a headache pill………………….


I need brakes on my mouth .....

Beautifully Broken
by Janine Milliken
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