Mom went to the emergency room about an hour after my second-to-last post (Thursday evening) and came back yesterday (Sunday afternoon). They determined it was a mini-stroke, due to her previously unknown PFO. They're still deciding whether to surgically fix it: the cardiologist says it's unlikely to cause further problems, but the neurologist disagrees. And there was a physical therapist at some point, for god knows what reason. I think they were just trying to get a holy trinity going on.
Dad spent the whole time at the hospital, understandably, and Arman and I lived off cereal and scrambled eggs. Which isn't too different than usual, really. I've been determinedly Not Thinking About It to the point where I don't have any real emotions attached, I think. Thank you guys so so so so so so so so so (ad infinitum) for your comments the other day: you have no idea how much it helped.
In conclusion, I love you guys, I love my mom, I love my dog who also loves my mom, and I love my cat who is chewing on my hair right now. I'm feeling very love-y. Also, tired. As it's five a.m. So I should probably sleep now.
Also, Chrissy and Mara: we should do something this weekend, or Friday night, or weekday night, or fish. I need to drive Mom around during the day