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  1. The Woes of Maddison Page Prologue - Monday, The Week Before Christmas Break - Mom was sitting on the couch in the living room spaced out. She’d had another feverish afternoon buzzing around cleaning up an already spotless house. She also cooked us a meal that was way too big for the two of us, again. I swear Mom had to have imagined dirt to clean and mouths to feed! Daddy had never pushed her to keep the house that clean or cook that much. He’d been just as happy with take out as the next guy. Mom did this. She did this to herself somehow. It was just after we lost Daddy that these tics started showing up. Whatever the reason, I’m pretty sure we could have eaten off the picture frames in the hallway, the house was that damn clean. Hell, I bet the FDA would have approved eating off our floors! Our house was that clean! You’d never believe the woman sitting on my couch worked full time, cooked for an army, and cleaned house like a full crew all before seven. She just looked too cute in her PJs. Mom was crashing hard after her long day. She was just sitting there looking adorable watching Adventure Time. It was my senior year of high school and we were in the off season of cross country. I was done. My high school athletic career was over. No more practices for me, so I was getting home around three of four in the evenings. It was a big improvement over six or so that I’d drag in after practice. I’d finished my homework as soon as I got home, and moved on to other tasks. I finally felt like I had time to properly prepare for school and my job with sports no longer a draw on my time. It was a treat not to be so rushed! I wasn’t working that night either, so I decided to be productive another way. No time like the present to get the adult stuff done! I had my laptop setup on the kitchen table working my way through this month’s bills. You have to be careful or it will really pile up on you. Besides, someone had to do it and Mom wasn’t ever going to be the best candidate. Mom and I were paid on different schedules. I was paid twice a month, once on the fifteenth and then again on the thirtieth. Mom was paid every two weeks. You have to keep up with that stuff! It makes it tricky to pay bills when your income isn’t as predictable as the due dates, but I kept on top of it. I’ve been paying our bills and managing our budget for the last three years. It was much easier to just break everything down to the first and the sixteenth right after I got paid. Then, I’d pay it all and didn’t have to worry until the next half of the month came around. This month’s stuff was stacked neatly in two piles representing two different excel worksheets in the master budget workbook that I kept. Three years in the Microsoft Office Certification electives at my high school were actually coming in handy! My spreadsheet was pretty elaborate. It’s a real shame I didn’t have a good backup plan going. “Honey, are you done with the paperwork yet?” Mom called from the living room. She called everything from my homework to reading the mail the ‘paperwork’. “Almost, I just balanced our checking accounts. I just need to deduct the bills and pay stuff online real fast.” I replied. “Will you bring me sumpin ta drink when you come this way?” Mom yelled. “You bet. I’ll be there in a few minutes.” I told her. Electronic Bill Pay is a Godsend! I didn’t even have to keep up with stamps anymore. I just created a new payee and boom, they got their money. It really streamlined how I managed our finances. I checked my notes and vowed again to read up on mom’s retirement plan. I just didn’t understand 401k’s enough for my own satisfaction. So, I typed a note on my digital calendar reminding me to look into it. I blew out a tired breath. I’d be leaving for college soon, and I really wanted to make sure mom would be taken care of. I might not be living with her, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t keep up with this stuff for her. The bills were the easy part, now at least. I could do it from a dorm room too. “Momma, looks like Wellington’s will be out to top off the gas early next week. We have that covered, but it will be a bit tight till the eighteenth when you get paid.” I shouted from the kitchen. I paused and asked, “Are you going to be home to take the invoice and pay them? It should be Monday or Tuesday.” “Baby, I’m still good in savings, right? If something comes up, you can just transfer some money over with your phone thingy, ya?” Mom yelled back. “Yup. I put it on your phone too. I added air filters to the Walmart list.” I told her. “I’ll make sure I’m available for the gas guy honey. I’ll just run home from work. They usually call before they show up. That should give me time to get home. “Come sit with me awhile before you go up to your bedroom baby.” Mom patted the couch next to her. Mom must have needed some cuddle time. She’s the short petite kind of woman, you know straight up tiny. I look just like an upsized version of her which is odd, her being older and all. Dad had a lot of height and width. He had been just a big ole teddy bear of a guy, but looked like he could have played football! Apparently, Mom’s look dominated my genes because I was petite too, but I got dad’s height. In fact, I’ve been taller than mom since I was twelve. I entered the living room and gave her the once over before I went to her. She had her dark hair up in a high off center ponytail that was draped over the back of the couch. Mom kept her hair longer than I liked mine, and being the size of a high school kid made her hair look even longer. She was wearing the bugs bunny footed sleeper that I’d bought her last Christmas causing me to smile at my cutie mom. “Here ya go Momma.” I told her giving her the hard plastic cup with a screw on lid and hard plastic straw, her living room cup. I had a sudden instinct to remind her to put it in the sink when she was done. I guess it was because of how she was dressed and the show she was watching, but I didn’t really need to. She’d probably clean it and put it back in the cabinet before she went to bed. God knows, it wouldn’t be dirty long! Her PJs didn’t have a hood with the ears or the poofy tail that the new ones did, but it did have the coloring and the rabbit feet. Mom had a new set of PJs wrapped up under the Christmas tree. I got her a Sylvester the cat set that came complete with tail, paw looking feet, and a hoodie topped with cat ears. She was going to love the two piece sleeper and I was really excited to see her open it! The PJ set wasn’t the most expensive gift I’d gotten her, but I was making sure she opened it first. She’d likely wear it the rest of the day. There was a good chance that would be her favorite gift. She was going to smile and squeal like a kid, which would make my heart swell. I nearly teared up thinking about her being so happy. We both worked hard to make sure we got those moments. Mom only dressed her age when she was at work. At home, all bets were off. She is still small enough to wear anything from tween to small adult things. It did, and still does, suit her sense of style. She keeps an immaculate house like a fifties house wife, but she’s just a kid at heart. Her bed had more stuffed animals than pillows on it! It wasn’t uncommon for mom to pass out on a teddy bear instead of a pillow. I had bought her a big fluffy stuffed rabbit the first Valentine’s Day after dad passed. I just wanted her to have something positive to hold onto that day. She’s been known to sit round the living room in her PJs holding it vegging out to whatever was on TV. That night she was snuggling one of the couch throw pillows sitting cross legged watching Adventure Time. Looking at her made me smile. I knew I wasn’t a real adult yet. I didn't’ feel like one either, but that wasn’t for lack of responsibility or trials. It was only a function of age and attitude. I envied mom sometimes. I wish I could relax as hardcore as she does. Work hard and play hard and all that. I sat with mom for a commercial-less DVR’d episode of Survivor. She never fought for the remote, but it was often on the satellite channel for Adult Swim whenever I took it over. She knew I wouldn’t sit there and watch those brainless cartoons with her, so she just handed over the remote when I sat down. She enjoys watching TV with me, but I’m pretty sure it has more to do with me than what we are watching. I’m positive she genuinely liked survivor though. When Jeff said “Next time on Survivor”, I headed upstairs to shower after kissing mom goodnight. Hurrah for skips! I always feel like a commercial assassin, my weapon of choice – the remote. I hate ads! I ran through the shower down stairs, packed my lunch for tomorrow, texted mom my work hours for the next couple of days, and headed up to my bedroom. It was as spotless as the rest of the house. Long ago, I had decided that the lack of privacy was worth mom keeping everything in order. I had nothing to hide from her anyway. I had a single drawer in my in-closet-dresser that is set aside as “private space”. She tells me she doesn’t go in that drawer, but I don’t keep much in there, just in case. Frankly, I just didn’t have anything I that would bother me if mom saw it. Between Cross Country and Track, homework, actual work, and the house finances, I just didn’t have time to clean. Forget about time to get into normal teenage trouble! I’m an old soul, or so I’ve been told. I would be graduating in a few months with four hundred other students, and I was currently ranked fourth in my class academically. I had become very Type-A. I didn’t have the best ACT score at thirty, but I was determined to get the most scholarship offers, so I applied for everything! I sat down at my desk and turned my attention to toward that goal. I started flipping through all the different college materials on my desk checking the due dates for entrance exams, ACT score submissions, finical aid info, and the like. Eventually, I sat back in my desk chair and puffed air through my bangs. I’d finally turned my hyper focused mind off about eleven pm, but it took a melatonin tablet to do it. I waited about ten minutes until I was good and under the influence. Then, I tried to work up the energy to get up and lay down on my bed, but the smell of my life going down in flames rolled into the room on a cloud of gray smoke from under my door. The Woes of Maddison Page Chapter 1 – My Hair Still Smells Like Smoke - Wednesday Morning - “Maddisonnnn.” Mandy Page whined through the bathroom door at her seventeen year old daughter. “We’ve got to go by Walmart for some panties, toothbrushes, and other stuff. Get off the pot and let’s go. Move it baby!” Mom whined at me. Her attempt at assertiveness failed miserably. She didn’t fool anyone. Even after everything we’d been through the last few days, her sad little attempt at parenting me made me smile. Tiger Mom she was not! “Momma.” I replied as respectfully as possible, which wasn’t as respectful as I’d normally have been. It was seriously hard not to laugh at her! “I don’t want to yell at you through the door, crack it alright?” I begged her tears forming in my eyes and a clearly quivering voice as my mood shifted dramatically. My back suddenly lanced pain through every nerve ending in my spine. My mood followed. “Listen baby, I know all of this is awful, but...” Mom said peeking into the bathroom inadvertently interrupting herself. Tears started streaming from my mother’s eyes when she saw me. It was an admittedly pitiful sight. “Oh My God, Baby my hair still smells like smoke! Oh Maddie, it’s all gone! Everything! All of Quentin’s pictures. Oh!” Mom dissolved into a pool of sorrow in the bathroom floor of our La Quinta Inn Suite. I was usually the strong one, but I was a straight up hot mess. I wanted to comfort her. She had mistaken my pain for sorrow, for trauma. I wanted to go to her, and hug her until all of our tears were spent. I couldn’t though. I was stuck on the damn toilet in desperate need of comforting myself. Mom’s breakdown took my painful tears down her emotional path with her. Then we were both bawling. Sometimes life finds fun new ways to kick you in the lady balls when you’re down. Not being able to help mom was a serious blow to my budding adult sized ego. I hurt everywhere and my lady balls had been kicked so much they were totally demolished! I needed to be the strong one like I’d always had been, but it just wasn’t happening that morning. I was only seventeen after all, but mom had been relying on me for a few years. Our dynamic had shifted after dad passed. I just sort of assumed his role at the house while mom healed. She’s just not built to be alone, or in charge for that matter. I thank God every day for the strength he gave me to support her back then, and I thank him for the purpose he granted me when I needed one. ‘Monkey Balls! I’ve even been keeping the checkbook and paying bills for almost three years now, I’m better than this! Get your shit together Girl!’ I gave myself an angry pep-talk. It’s not like mom wasn’t smart enough to pay our bills or balance the checkbook, but Daddy always handled those things for her. He worked and took care of the financial side of things. She had a debit card on the checking account and just brought Daddy the receipts. He kept her life simple because she likes it that way. He did it for her, so I had too. Dad had a budget and what not, so mom knew what was available for monthly toilet paper, groceries, and stuff, but she didn’t have any idea when we paid bills or how much we paid. She didn’t even know what bills had to be paid anymore. I did though, and I took care of them for years afterward too. I missed my Dad more and more with every passing day, and all of the sudden our memories of him were buried in a pile of ash where our home once stood. Every photo album, every framed picture, and even all the digital pictures that weren’t on Facebook were gone. I didn’t even make it out with my cell phone much less my laptop. It really crushed my heart. I was going to be right in the middle of this insurance claim, the city officials, and the financials on this house fire too. Just one more item in the overwhelming list of crap I had to keep up with. Worse, none of the officials would want to talk to me because I’m a year short on the year tally to be an “Adult”. There’d be a lot of relaying stuff through Mom. It’s not like I cared if she knew what was going on, but it was my job to keep things simple and easy for her. She is an awesome mother, but she seems to thrive when things around her are simple at home. No one can praise a child like my mother can. She related so well to me at every age and through every milestone. She was always right there in the floor with me. We colored. We watched cartoons. We played. We read. We did homework. We swam. We tickled. We had sleepovers and mom was always the star of the party. After Dad died though, I aged. I moved on into my teens and left mom in her footed PJs watching Cartoon Network happy to just be. I’d do anything for her. I’d protect her peace with everything I had! After all, a girl should keep her promises, especially those made over their father’s casket… I may have had the best childhood any kid could ever ask for, at least until dad. We weren’t loaded or anything, but mom’s demeanor almost forced the people around her into a happier simpler mood. She is a force of peaceful love. Her love is tangible, and I fought my teenaged hardest to make sure her light shined for everyone to see. Unfortunately, that laid a heavy burden on me, but it was a burden that I carried voluntarily. Worse though, it was my senior year in high school. I was totally booked up on time already. Paying the bills and watching the budget wasn’t as hard as you might think on my time, but it sure added a layer of worry to my life. Worry that none of my friends had to deal with, but I was ok with that it was my life. I chose to step in for Daddy, no one chose it for me. I wouldn’t let anyone take it from me either. My mind flooded with all the things that needed to be done. “Oh, Mommy!” I sobbed filled with crushing despair thick in the bathroom. “Oh, Baby!” She balled. I listed off all off the calls I needed to make to begin fixing this debacle. I cried to her about how I had to use the hotel phone to do it all, but I couldn’t stay in the office area of the suite long enough to finish a call before I was back in the bathroom. I couldn’t get anything done and it was adding to my sense of hopelessness. ‘Enough! Maddison get your crap together. You swore to Daddy that you’d protect her. You’re hurting her. Listen to her!’ I gave myself a hell of a motivational speech, but it fell on deaf internal ears. Mom came crawling over to me from where she’d collapsed to the floor, still in tears. I was sitting there with my shorts and panties down around my ankles stuck on the toilet like I had been for most of the past day and a half. She struggled up and hugged me fiercely despite my state of undress. We slowly got our shit back together. “Momma I’m so sorry about that. I guess I kinda lost it there.” I said gathering the strands of my resolve. “Oh Maddie,” my mom cooed with the weight of the world on her shoulders. “You are absolutely the best daughter any mother could hope for. You saved me when Daddy passed. You’ve been helping with everything sense then too. Don’t think I don’t know how much of your paycheck goes in my account.” I gave her a sad smile that told her that I knew I was caught. Mom worked in the back office for a medical billing company. They handled the collections for smaller firms like general practitioners or smaller surgical clinics that weren’t affiliated with a hospital system. Mom has a sweet voice and a tender disposition. She was perfect for first contact. She was horrible at the follow up collection calls. Sometimes I forget that she can put on office clothes and carry on like an adult at work. ‘Oops. Guess she’s not always Momma like she is at home.’ I thought. I had a nearly full time job with Tractor Supply Company, almost forty hours a week. Mom made decent money and could cover most of the bills. Dad’s retirement and his life insurance helped us even more, but I moved about half my check to the house account to cover my little car payment. I paid the insurance payments for both of our cars. Essentially, I paid for myself out of mom’s account, but I had thought she never really looked at it. I thought I was being clever, but in hindsight, I wouldn’t have left those duties to a thirteen year old either. She had let me “help” for almost four years, but I was certain, even back then, that she really didn’t check things that often. She wanted someone else to handle those things for her. So when I proved I could, she’d let me. We would never have had any money for new things or entertainment if I asked mom to cover my car, insurance, and other senior stuff. I bought my own clothes for the same reason. I thought I was being sneaky and leaving mom where she would be when I went off to college. That way it would be an easier transition for her, and I suppose that was still true. She just wasn’t quite as oblivious to it as I thought. ‘Guess I’m not as sneaky as I thought I was.’ I conceded. I could handle all the bills online. Mom had added me as an authorized decision maker on everything she could. Until I hit 18, our hands were tied in some places. She’d work, cook, clean, and not have to be burdened with anything else except an occasional “yes, I do” on the phone or a signature here and there. She relied on me handling those decisions for her. Daddy was doing his best to take care of us from beyond the grave, but mom would likely always have to work. It was probably for the best. Too much free time and that level of grief might have been the ruin of her. “It’s better for both of us this way. I have a sense of what income I’m going to need at state, and I don’t have any chores anyway. I’m kinda spoiled and this lets me contribute. Plus, you won’t have to adjust your budget when I leave for college. I can keep taking care of things from up there too.” I try to joke through my pesky tears. “Maddison, you don’t even have to clean your room! I do everything around the house honey. You are very spoiled.” Mom elbowed me. Then she threw on a very serious face. “I know things will change when you go off to State. I’m going to miss you so much. This is just the worst time for all this to happen! Maybe we should just get an apartment or something.” I hugged my mom and flushed the toilet. I was used to being the backbone of my little family. Being this angry and this scared just made me want to cry in frustration, but crying just pisses me off more. It was becoming a cycle feeding on itself and I needed to put a stop to it. I stood up and pulled my shorts and panties back up my slender hips. Then, I sat down next to her on the hotels bathtub wall. I gave my mom a powerful side hug, as much to bolster my courage as to reaffirm hers. “Pfft, you’ll probably see more of me in college than you do right now. If my scholarships come through, I’ll only have to work for my car, gas, and food. I’m going to try and pull enough hours to do that during the week and have the weekends at home for homework and Momma time.” “Really Maddie, you really are? Ewe, I hope you can. Oh, I’m going to miss you so much. I’ll do your laundry.” Mom sobs against my shoulder. “I promise to find a way to help you at school baby. I don’t want your next four years to be like the last few have been. As soon as the fire department makes their report, the home owners will kick in. It’ll get better Maddie, you just wait and see.” “I hope it’s soon. I don’t know how I’m going to keep up with school, college, the bills, and the fire stuff without a phone or a computer Momma.” I confessed to her as my shoulders slumped in defeat. Suddenly, I remembered the crispy computer held our budget, account information, and bank records. I immediately start listing things off building To-Do lists in my head. I had to rebuild all of that from memory, or at least enough of it to make a list of people to call. “How are your little legs honey?” Mom asked as she grabbed my bad leg and sat it in her lap to inspect it. Both of my legs were bruised and cut up pretty badly, but my right leg was at least sprained, possibly broken. I’d bailed out of my bedroom window after all! The smoke had come barreling under my door and I confess to shrieking like a blonde in a slasher movie before jumping for my life. - Back to Monday Night - I smelled the smoke as I saw it billowing out under my door. The scene stunned me for a moment, but I quickly got my wits together and tested the doorknob. Finding it hot, I raced over to my bed and battled the paint-stuck window. I finally jerked it open with a loud wooden thud. I moved back to my door and yelled “Fire” at the top of my lungs three or four times. I hoped that was enough to wake my mom. I was afraid she’d passed out on the couch watching TV and would never wake up again. That was a paralyzing thought. I snapped out of it, and I snagged my pillow with the Power Puff Girls pillow case on it. I chunked it out the window onto our hedges directly below my window. My bedroom was on the third floor, and it was a good distance to the ground from up there. The hedges around my side of our house were old, dense, and about six foot tall, not the best landing zone, but beggars and choosers and what not. I took a labored freighted breath, and slid out of my window. I tried to “fall” out onto my pillow, but only my left leg found it. My right leg fell straight into the hedge tearing it up and wrenching my leg in unnatural directions. I teetered off the top of the hedge and fell down to the ground butt-first in one long continuous action. I hit hard directly on my tailbone. I ended up on the ground with my right leg all bruised and torn up. My hedgerow idea sucked. ‘I guess it could have been worse. At least I didn’t just land on my feet and break a bunch of bones, but this feels almost as bad.’ I imagined. My left butt cheek was pretty banged up too. My lower back was bothering me fiercely from hitting the ground so hard. I felt blackness dancing at the edges of my sight. ‘I guess falling or flinging myself out of the window onto the hedge during my escape wasn’t the best idea. Gotta get my shit together and find out if mom got out. Just as soon as I can convince myself I can walk.’ My right wrist was throbbing from trying to catch myself both in the hedge and on the ground. I was torn up and bleeding everywhere but my left leg that the pillow had protected from the worst of it. It wasn’t a bad list of injuries for a major house fire and two story flight from a third story window! I finally managed to talk my battered body into getting up. I hobbled across the road to the Johnson’s house carrying my stupid pillow. I have no idea why I didn’t just leave it there on the lawn, but I didn’t. I had to get to our emergency location, and mom just had to be there. I clutched my stupid childish pillow tightly, because seriously, the entire neighborhood needed to see Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup! I guess comfort was more important to me than anything else right then, and that pillow had been with me for years. I rounded the corner of my house skirting the heat from the fire. I made it across the road and collapsed in the Johnson’s front yard. My leg wasn’t working right and Mom wasn’t where I wanted her to be, and I think I might have passed out in shock. The next thing I knew, a pair of strong arms was picking me up. I opened my eyes to see Mr. Johnson smiling down at me. “Oh thank God Maddison.” He hugged me close to him and screamed for my mom who was standing in front of our house trying to get to me. She got her only injuries from standing too close to the fire yelling for me to jump to safety. It was sort of stupidly heroic. “Oh My God Maddie, My Baby!” She bellowed running back to me across the road wearing her beat up Bugs Bunny jumper. “Hey Momma.” I grunted out around the pain and confusion. The four of us collapsed to the ground again in a huddle of hugs and reassurances. Sal and Jenny Johnson were our emergency contacts and location. The older neighbors had helped us a great deal since Dad. The four of us sat there on the lawn and watched the hungry fire devour our home while waiting on the professionals to arrive. I’ll always remember that night, but the thing that stood out the most was the fire was so hot I could feel it from across the road. The Woes of Maddison Page Chapter 2 – My Bipolar Bladder - Later that Monday Night - The fire department arrived within eight minutes of mom placing the call from the Johnson’s front yard. It hadn’t made much difference. The old place went right before our very eyes up like dried popsicle sticks. Smoke under my door to the four corner posts of the house falling into the basement only took twenty-eight minutes. Well that what I guessed based on the quick scan of my alarm clock on the way out of my window. When the posts fell I marked the time on mom’s watch just after she assaulted me in our neighbor’s front yard. Twenty-Eight minutes and everything we had been destroyed. Twenty-Eight minutes and our lives were forever changed. Twenty-Eight minutes between life before the fire and life after the fire. “Something in the kitchen went up first baby.” Mom babble to me still in her Bugs Bunny sleeper. She was terrified that I had been stuck and caught in the blaze and it was hard for her to believe I was going to be okay. “It was just so horrible. I couldn’t get to you! I was so scared! Nothing was on, and I was in the living room watching the TV. Then fire raced up the stairwell and I couldn’t get to the stairs. I couldn’t get to you!” She bellowed. “I can’t believe you’re ok. You are ok aren’t you? I was so scared Maddison. All I could think of was you were stuck up there in the fire. I thought I had lost you baby.” She whispered that last part to me and cried. It dawned on her that I likely had a problem getting down from the third floor. Mom frantically freed me from Mr. Johnson’s strong grasp and laid me out on the plush carpet of their manicured lawn. She started running her hands over me asking what hurt as she ran through her first aid training. I remember looking around laying there wondering if their sprinklers would come on while I lay on the grass. Shock does weird things to the mind. That, and mom looked kind of ridiculous checking me for wounds in those bunny footie pajamas. My right leg and arm were bleeding pretty badly. I was cut up all over the place, but my left hand was just scuffed up a little. Mom looked around and put my childlike pillow under my head. ‘I love this pillow and its childish pillow case. I’m kind of glad something from my old life survived. Plus, who likes sleeping on someone else’s pillow? This shall be my squishy!’ I declared mentally channeling my inner Dori. I decided that if mom was ok out there in her goofy PJs then I cherish my old pillow. “Honey, does your head hurt at all? Did you hit your head?” Mom asked me retaining bits and pieces of her emergency classes. “Mandy, the ambulance is here darlin.” The grandmotherly Mrs. Jenny addressed Mom. She had called them while mom was yelling at the fire to let me go. “Ma’am, please step back and speak to my partner Frank. I’ll check on your sister right there.” The EMT told her pointing to his partner. “That’s Maddison, she’s my daughter.” Mom supplied the EMT staggering meekly over to Frank. ‘That’s funny! PJs got ya Mom.’ I chuckled to myself. “Maddison, tell me what happened...” The EMT started, but I don’t really remember the last half of that sentence. I know I answered his questions, but the pain wiped away most of my memory. My next memory was from the ambulance for just a few moments. It was long enough to see mom sitting next to me and that I was strapped onto a gurney. She was talking to the EMT that had checked me out. I remember hearing mom was going to be fine. She’d only had some mild burns on her hands and forearms trying to get to me through the fire. I, on the other hand, needed a trip to the hospital for x-rays, stitches, and who knew what else. - Wednesday - Mom checked “my little legs” and we made our way back to our hotel bed. That whole window-flying hospital-staying experience was sitting at a nine out of ten on the suck-O-meter. In my short life only losing Dad had sucked worse, that had been a solid ten out of ten. I sat down heavily on the hotel bed trying to hold my leg up from the recoil, but my back wasn’t putting up with a slow descent. Mom put my bad right leg up on a stack of pillows to elevate it, cause Dr.’s orders, but my back was hurting no matter how I laid. I didn’t want to go to the store with mom. In fact, I really didn’t want to move at all. I hurt everywhere! It felt like how I imagined being in a car wreck would feel, and I was totally prepared to throw a fit about getting up again. ‘Maddie – 0, Gravity - 1 – Well done gravity! You have surely kicked my ass.’ I chuckled at my own stupid internal commentary. “Momma, I don’t want to go with you.” I whined. “ It’s freezing out there, and I can’t wear pants with this leg splint thing.” Then a tingle in my lady bits hit me again. “Plus, it seems I need to use the bathroom. Again! I shouldn’t have even left. ARGH!” I groused. ‘Why can’t the eff’n toilet be friggin cushioned or something? I need one of those gunshot-in-the-ass pillows from TV.’ I mumbled pushing up out of bed. ‘Of all the leftovers from my two story flight, my bipolar bladder had to be my least favorite.’ I thought. “Honey, you just went, literally moments ago. I’m sure you’ll be fine.” The concern flooded mom’s face while she waved her hands around. I couldn’t help it. I began to cry, “Dammit, I know momma, and it hurts so bad when I get up. Please help me back in there. I’ll just fucking sit on the toilet for the rest of my goddamn life. Maybe I can fold up some towels to sit on.” I lamented. I was filled with exhaustion and aggravation, and my poor attitude got the better of my vocabulary. I hardly ever cuss, out loud at least, but I was tired of… everything. I was exhausted. I threw myself a well-deserved pity party. I’d just have to feel bad about biting mom’s head off later, but being a God fearing young lady from the south, I knew I would be mortified at my own behavior later. How many seventeen year old girls do you know that work thirty plus hours a week, go to school, run cross country at a state level, maintain a 4.16 GPA? I was trying my damnedest to get into the best school I could afford for my bachelors. Now I had to do all that while trying to piece our life back together from the pieces the demon of a fire took from me. Not to mention all the responsibility I picked up after Dad passed, and now my bipolar bladder was forcing my injured back into service it wasn’t apparently prepared to give. I sighed and got up. As always, I was doing my best, and I was way too stubborn to give up. While I wallowed in my own pity, mom helped me up off the bed. I made it vertical with a weight lifters grunt, and I shuffled on to the bathroom by myself. I really needed that tiny bit of independence, but I just left the door open this time since I couldn’t talk to mom if I closed it anyway. I looked at my sickly pale complexion in the bathroom mirror while sitting on the toilet. I stared at it for a solid minute before deciding that the crew of The Walking Dead would have to put color on me to let me shamble on their set! Mom had seen my perky butt a million times, and we were bunked in this one bed suite with little to no privacy anyway. Modesty just didn’t matter to me anymore, at least where my mom was concerned. So, I just left the damn door wide open. ‘God I look horrible. I look like a disabled vampire with coffin head.’ My morbid sense of humor supplied. ‘I feel thin, sort of stretched, like butter scraped over too much bread.’ I mentally quoted one of my favorite books. I had my bad leg stretched out in front of me with my panties around that ankle. ‘I wish I could figure out how to prop it up on the tub and leave it there. This would be way more comfortable.’ I thought while playing around with it unsuccessfully. We’d only been in this suite for a couple days, but it was already wearing on me. I was hurting not wanting to move, but I was cagey and wanting to get out of there. Nothing was mine. Nothing was the same. I couldn’t get anything done without my stuff. I was already battling the senior everything-is-changing-stress, but this was just too much. ‘I have nothing. I mean technically our cars are just singed, but drivable. Bubbly paint doesn’t keep the car from going. The cars were a crispy silver lining I guess.’ I took a stab at cheering myself up. It didn’t work. “Mommy, I don’t know what’s going on inside me.” I broke down again feeling the overwhelming emotional weight of my situation. I needed my mommy, and like always she was right there ready and willing to bend reality for me just like I do for her. I cried into my hands in the bathroom of a hotel with all my dreams falling away in tears and ashes. Seriously, I was conjuring scenarios in my mind where I’d have to stay with mom in an apartment and take care of her for some reason, or a ton of different scenarios where college never happened. My overactive imagination was jumping down every horrible situation I could dream up. I was spiraling. It’s wasn’t one of my finest moments. “What do you mean honey.” Mom sounded petrified. She needed me sure, but right then she had no idea how to help me. “I just went to the bathroom. I mean, I barely peed at all, but I felt like I couldn’t hold it anymore as soon as I sat down. It was hurting to hold it while I walked in here. It felt like I was about to pee all over myself sitting there on the bed. Walking was even scarier. Even when I manage to go a little, the relief doesn’t last long before I’m back at the near pissing myself feeling.” I wailed. “Maddie you didn’t drink anything, and we were only in the other room maybe five minutes. You know there’s nothing in there right? Why don’t you try pushing a little, and I’ll help you lay down again? Then you won’t have to worry.” Mom coached while pointing at my traitorous bladder. “GAWD Momma! I know how to pee. I’m telling you something is wrong. My bladder isn’t full, but I’m tingling like I’m about to wet myself.” I huffed at her while crossing my arms. “Don’t take it out on me young lady! It’s only been a couple days since the fire. Maybe you hurt yourself worse than we thought? I don’t remember talking to the ER guys or the EMTs about bladder stuff. Did you talk to them?” Mom prompted. I dried my eyes with some toilet paper, “No Momma. I’m not even sure it was a thing then. Plus, the pain from the fall was keeping some of this other stuff away. I was hurting too bad to feel the tingle, but it’s all I feel now! And… I’m sorry for yelling.” I conceded hanging my head. Mom sighed and looked down. The look on her face told me her fear had elevated. “Baby, your panties are a little wet. Do you know when that happened?” She asked me still staring down at the condition of my underwear with a patient look of concern in her loving eyes. “They’re WHAT!” I sobbed anew. “It’s not much honey. Maybe you just went a little when you stood up. It looked like it hurt. Ha! that happens to me all the time. Peeing a little here and there happens to a lot of girls. I’ve had to wear a heavy pad since you were born.” Mom offered. It did hurt, but I had no idea that I’d “leaked.” The thought was simply terrifying. ‘OMG!’ “Have you ever held it so long that your control was literally bouncing. You’d flexed the muscles so long they would contract and relax, like a pulse you don’t have control over. That feeling of you have literally one moment longer before there’s a mess to clean up. When your bladder says a rowdy Fuck You and dumps its load without your consent?” I begged her to understand. Mom nodded. “That’s how I’m feeling all the time right now. It’s exhausting and it’s killing my already pissed off back.” I groused. In another fit of age-inappropriate mental fatigue, I dramatically kicked my underwear and shorts off of my bad leg with the good one. I needed the wet panties as far away from me as possible. Mom took some toilet paper and wiped the tears from my face, and started a bath. “I’ll go to Wally World by myself honey. You said your back was hurting, so you just take a nice long hot bath and enjoy all this never ending hotel hot water. Mommy will be right back baby.” She told me visually assessing me for further damage. She wasn’t sure what to do. It seemed like a terrific idea, soaking in the tub. I have always loved to soak in a deep hot bath. Our hot water heater was under too much demand and way too old to keep up with a deep water baths at home. Suddenly, I was excited that I could soak, then shave, and have enough hot water to shower off too. ‘I’ll finally feel human again, at least until I had to resume my porcelain vigilance.’ I sighed. ‘What the hell is going on with me?! Mom’s still got to make that Wal-Mart run, but at least she seems willing to make it on her own now. I’m just glad I don’t have to go and that she can get to her checking account. Fuck!’ I shouted internally. I’d forgotten that I couldn’t “submerge” my leg. Mom had grabbed her purse on the way out the front door of our former home. She still had her debit and credit cards. Thank the Lord! If she’d lost those too, we’d have no access to the meager funds we currently had available. As it was, I only had temporary checks on my account. Work had given me the week off paid. That was super nice of my boss, and the old jerk wasn’t known for his super niceness. Mom had taken the week off too. She wasn’t fortunate enough for bonus unpaid leave though. She had to burn the rest of her vacation and sick/personal days. She wouldn’t be off around Christmas now. That realization hit me hard. “Oh momma, all your Christmas presents were already under the tree, and I can’t take a bath cause of the stitches.” I cried yet again feeling the weight of our loss. My emotions were all over the place. I knew it, and still couldn’t stop it. That just pissed me off more. I was really excited to give her the Sylvester Jumper set. It was the pivotal part of her Christmas. Mom still had what was left of the Bugs footed sleeper, but I don’t think she would be sleeping in it anymore. It probably reminded her of the fire, and neither of us wanted that. My resolve hardened again. Mom would have the Sylvester jumper set for Christmas! With that goal I rediscovered my strength, if only temporarily.
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