What My Mother Needs

I was going to go to the doctor's office with her and that was that.

"Aren't you eating, Mom?" She was sitting at the table looking at its surface where her plate would be, looking miserable. She shook her head, and looked at me, and the smile slowly came back to her face. "You've got to eat something, Mom. Would you like me to make you some eggs and pancakes?"

Mom jumped up and moved quickly to the stove. "No, no, Ba- uh, Miles, I'll just make an egg for myself. You eat your breakfast!"

I waited for Mom to whip up her own scrambled egg with a touch of cream beaten into the mix just before it hit the melted butter in the pan. It was fluffy and hot, and looked exactly like my eggs, and nothing like Dad's. As she sat down and picked up her fork, I asked her about that.

"Mom, are you angry with Dad for some reason? I mean, look at the eggs you fixed him... no, I don't want you to feel bad, I want to know why this," and I indicated the scorched slime on his plate, "...rather than this," I said, indicating our plates.

Mom drew a deep breath. "I really don't know. I keep doing things that are wrong, but they feel right and natural at the time. I don't even think about them; they feel so normal and appropriate. I love your father, I know I do, but I can't seem to bring myself to show it. Miles, something is wrong with me, and I'm afraid I will do something that will hurt you."

"Me?! I'm worried that you will hurt Dad. You already have, several times."

"I'd never hurt Daddy!"

"Not your father, my father! Geez, Mom, why do you keep thinking I'm talking about your father whenever I talk about mine? This is recent. You never did that before. Is it so hard to realize that when I say 'Dad', I mean my dad, exactly like I have for my entire life? And why are you calling him 'Daddy' now? I've never heard you call Grandad that before the last few days! What gives!?"

Mom took her last bite of egg and chewed a moment. "I think I may be losing my mind," she admitted..

"I'm going with you to the doctor's office," I told her. I expected her to object, and to tell me to get to class. She didn't. She reached over and took my hand, a somewhat embarrassed smile of thanks graced her lips.

One of my usual chores was doing the dishes, since Mom almost always cooked. I stood and grabbed up the plates and used silver and took them to the sink. As I got close, Mom quickly inserted herself between me and my goal. "I'll get those, Ba- uh, Miles!"

"Nope! You cooked. This is my job. You go make the appointment and get dressed. This won't take me a minute!" I replied.

She pouted for a moment then kissed me on the cheek and whirled to scamper off like she was a seven-year-old. I shook my head and did the dishes.

Mom's mood swings seemed pretty extreme and odd. I wondered if perhaps she could be bipolar. I had a friend whose father was bipolar, and would sometimes go off his medication. He could get pretty extreme and odd during those times. But didn't bipolar disorder show up earlier in life? Mom was in her mid-forties... Maybe not, I don't know, I'm not a shrink. I was becoming sure Mom needed one, though.

Mom scheduled the appointment for just after lunch, so I went and grabbed a shower, assuming she was doing the same. I was midway through shampooing my hair when the shower door opened and there was Mom.

She had an almost blank look on her face as she stared at me. I covered my groin and yelled "Mom! What the hell?"

She seemed to snap out of it and looked stunned, then horrified. "Oh, Baby! I'm so sorry! I did it again!" She turned and ran from the bathroom.

I was going in with her to talk with the doctor. I'd be asking her for a referral for Mom to a psychiatrist. This was getting scary.

I finished my shower, got dressed, and went to find Mom. She was in my parent's bedroom, sitting on the bed looking scared and dejected.

"Hey, Mom," I said, trying to keep things from getting worse. "How are you feeling, now?"

"Confused and sad," Mom replied. "Miles, honey, I'm so sorry for walking in on you like that! I just sort of... woke up there in the bathroom. I don't know what I was doing. I don't even know what I was thinking! I was just on autopilot, I guess."

"That's okay, Mom, just don't do it again. I'll make sure the bathroom door is locked in the future."

"No!" The word was out of her before she could stop it, or even knew it was coming. She took a breath. "You might fall and be hurt in there -- so many accidents happen in the bathroom!"

"Uh... sure, yeah, Mom, okay," I agreed, privately thinking the door would definitely be locked from here on out. It was way too creepy to have her walk in on me in the shower again! "What is the last thing you remember before realizing you were in the bathroom?"

"Um, I was laying out clothes for the doctor's office and about to go get in the shower...." she felt her hair and looked down at herself, "which I apparently didn't do. I have no idea why I went to the hall bath instead of my own bathroom!"

"Mom, get your shower and get dressed. We'll have to ask the doctor about it."

Mom nodded, picked up her clothes to change into, and trudged into the bathroom. A moment later, I heard the shower start. I slipped out and pulled on my socks and shoes, then went downstairs to wait for Mom.

When she appeared, she looked nice and normal. I hugged her and told her it would be all right, and we left.

* * *

When Dr. Henderson entered the exam room, she raised an eyebrow at my presence. "I want him here," Mom informed her before the doctor could ask.

"Melina, how are you? I see you scheduled this appointment just this morning," asked Dr. Henderson, "are you not feeling well?"

Mom looked pained and embarrassed, flushing bright red and hanging her head. "No, no, I'm not. I'm having... some problems. I think I'm going through menopause, and I seem to be losing my mind because if it."

"Oh? It seems a bit early for you to be going through menopause. Let me get a blood panel on you, and we'll figure that out quickly!"

"Um, Dr. Henderson, Mom is having some problems doing things she would never do and not realizing it, and is treating Dad terribly." I told her.

"Oh? Well, if it is menopause, hormone replacement therapy can take the edge off. What your describing could be attributable to menopause. Hormones are responsible for so many things, and when those hormone levels change, the body and mind have to go through an adjustment period. Replacing the missing hormones allows the body to run like usual, but then the level of replacement hormones is lowered slowly by steps down to nothing, so the body and mind can adjust more easily. It spreads the change out rather than making it happen all at once."

"She's been kind of reminding me of a friend of mine's father. He's bipolar, and sometimes goes off his meds, and thinks and does crazy sh... things." I told her about that morning's breakfast.

"That... were you angry with your husband, Melina?" asked Dr. Henderson.

"No, not at all. I just forgot he was there," replied Mom.

"While talking to him for ten minutes, Dad said," I added. "And when she made his breakfast, she made burned, yet runny, scrambled eggs for him, while making fluffy perfect eggs for me and then herself."

"Miles, why don't you go wait for your Mom in the waiting room? I think your mother and I need to have a private talk."

"Okay " I said, "but I think she should see a shrink, and maybe she and Dad should get marital counselling. All this has happened in a couple of weeks, and most especially in the last couple of days. It's getting markedly worse. She walked in on me in the shower, and some other stuff. Can we get a referral?"

"If she needs one, certainly! Let's get that blood drawn now, and then we'll talk, okay?" Dr. Henderson said to me, and then asked the last part of Mom. She pulled out a couple of empty blood vials and a Vaccutainer, which was essentially a needle to plug the vacuum-filled vials into so that it automatically drew out the right amount of blood.

As she was wiping mother's arm with an alcohol swab, Dr. Henderson noticed a mark on her arm above the vein from which she was about to draw the blood. "Huh. What's this? Have you had blood drawn in the last few days?"

Mom looked down at her arm in confusion. "No, I haven't had blood drawn since I was here last!"

Dr. Henderson adjusted her glasses and looked more closely. "Yes, that looks like a needle mark to me."

Mom looked mystified. "I have mo idea. Why would anyone want my blood?"

"Needles can inject as well as draw blood," I said, wondering if my Mom was turning into some kind of junkie.

"Well, yes, of course, but it is far more likely to be a blood draw," Dr. Henderson said. "And, Miles, it's just the one and looks professionally done, so don't worry about that! It's mostly healed."

I shrugged. The doctor drew the blood from her other arm and took the samples to the lab down the hall. I followed her out, and continued on to the waiting room where I pulled out my phone and played a game while I waited.

After fifteen minutes or so, the nurse called me and said I could go back to my Mom. I walked back to the exam room to hear my mother crying, and Dr. Henderson's voice trying to soothe her.

"... will be all right. Your family loves you, why, your son even cared enough to come here with you! Out of all my patients who aren't invalids, you and only one other have been accompanied by a son or daughter. Your son and husband are showing you their love by wanting you to get better and getting you here. We'll get the lab results back, and then we'll be able to figure out how to best help you get your normal life back, okay?"

I had walked into the exam room about a third of the way through Dr. Henderson's speech, and smiled encouragingly at my mom.

Dr. Henderson turned to me. "Miles, your mother is a very fragile place, and from what your mother has said, you and your father have been doing well with her during what must be a difficult time for all of you. I've made an appointment with a psychiatrist I know and trust, so please try and keep your mother as relaxed and avoid stresses on her for the next few days until Dr. Thompson can see her. We'll figure our how to best proceed when the test results come in. I'll call when they do. Okay?"

"Sure, Doc," I said, giving her a smile and a salute.

"I've sent in a prescription for an anxiolytic, an anti-anxiety drug. It should be ready for pickup at your pharmacy on the way home. Have her take one every eight hours, and give her an extra one if she gets upset, or if she seems stressed. She should not drive or use alcohol while on these, so you may have to be her chauffeur if she goes anywhere. Any questions?"

"So... is it hormones or not?" I asked.

"We won't know until the test results come back, but these are all symptoms of a difficult and sudden menopause, so that's the most likely cause, though, of course, it could be something else. I concur with you and your mother," she glanced at Mom, then back to me, "that a psychiatric consult is called for, though if it is hormonal, once we get her on HR therapy most of this will likely resolve on its own."

"Thanks, Doc," I said, standing, and Mom stood with me. She hadn't changed into one of those paper gowns, so she and the doctor must have just talked, other than the blood draw. I looked to Mom, who was looking down -- something she was doing far too much these days. My mother had always faced other people head-on and with a smile. These days it seemed more like embarrassment and insecurity. "Hey, Mom..." I coaxed, and Mom looked up at me, smiled, and stood herself.

Mom put her hand in mine, and I led her out of the exam room and stood with her through the checkout process. It was about then that I noticed that Mom was following me, that I was, in fact, leading her and she was just... following along. This was an about-face from usual -- Mom was always the leader, always the one who knew what, where, and how. Now, she seemed unsure and tentative about any choices put before her, and seemed to feel most comfortable when I led the way.

What's more, she seemed to want me to hold her hand a lot. Mind you, Mom has always been a bit on the touchy-feely side in a bubbly affectionate way, but today, she held my hand from the exam room out to the car, her normally bright and interested face looking shy and nervous. Today, she only let go when she needed her hand for something like signing the charge for the co-pay or taking the new appointment card.

It felt... really strange. Imagine someone you know extremely well suddenly behaving in ways they never would have before. Of course, Mom had kind of been acting strange for a couple of weeks, so I guess it wasn't any stranger than everything else.

As we got in the car, I held the door for my Mom as usual, and she smiled at me in thanks as she sat and swung her legs into the car. As I got in the driver's seat, I heard my mother's phone make an unusual sound, like a drop of water hitting water run through a synthesizer - not the usual sound effects on so many phones these days, no, this was unique.

Mom didn't seem to notice it. "What was that, Mom?" I asked.

"Hmm? What was what, Ba- uh Miles?"

"That sound from your phone," I answered. "I've never heard that sound before."

"No idea, honey, it beeps and boops at me all the time," Mom answered as she glanced at her screen and pulled down the notifications window. "I don't know which one it was," she said, handing her phone to me. The few notifications that she had were for some game she had on her phone telling her that she had regained several lives and asked if she was ready to play again.

I handed the phone back, shrugging. "Looks like a game," I told her, and started the engine. She shrugged back at me, and made a gesture and face that communicated clearly that she had no idea or interest, either.

As we pulled from the parking lot into the street, Mom said, "Oh, hey, Miles, I need to go by Daddy's house for a minute. Then we can go to the pharmacy?"

"Sure, Mom," I answered, and mentally changed the destination on my mental map. "Again you called him 'Daddy' -- I've never heard you call him that before a couple of days ago, it was always "Grandad' when you were talking to me, or 'Dad' if you were talking to my Dad or your Dad. Why did you decide to call him 'Daddy'? It's... kind of creepy."

"Why is that creepy?" Mom asked, genuinely puzzled.

"It's creepy for any adult to call their father 'Daddy,' Mom. It's what you disapprove of because it sounds 'suggestive.' Your word, 'suggestive', like wearing a bikini instead of a one-piece, or an adult calling their mother or any woman 'Mommy.' Like showing too much skin."

She gasped slightly towards the end of my lecture. "I... remember that," Mom said, then shook her head.

"What changed?"

"I... don't know," Mom admitted."It just keeps popping out of my mouth. Maybe it's the hormones? I know I'm acting differently. I just can't seem to help it! Maybe getting the hormone replacement therapy will let me get back to normal! I hope so, at least! I hate what I'm doing to your poor father!"

"Let's hope," I agreed, pulling onto my Grandfather's road.

As we pulled up in front of his house, Mom shook her head as if to clear it, and said, "Miles, I shouldn't be but a minute, okay?"

"Okay," I said, putting the car in park and pulling out my phone to play a game while I waited. Mom nodded and closed the car door and walked up to Grandad's house.

I played my game until I was out of lives, about fifteen minutes, I figured. Mom still hadn't come back outside, so I looked at social media for a little while. Still no Mom, and it had been half an hour.

"Ah, fuck it," I muttered as I got out of the car to go track down and retrieve Mom. I didn't really want her out of mine or Dad's sight until she got back to normal. I walked up to the door Mom had used, a side door, and opened it.

I immediately heard my mother's distorted voice from several rooms away, but it was almost blotted out by various hums and beeps. It sounded... desperate? What the hell?! I went into stealth mode, sneaking down the hall to peer into my grandfather's workroom.

"Gah! I wahhlver meeker. Nah! Oh, no! Ahhhh!"

I think I may have been lucky that Mom made that noise when she did, because I think it covered my gasp of surprise, and maybe the sound of my jaw hitting the floor, when I saw her. She was naked except for boxes and wires and VR goggles, and was strapped into a chair which spread her legs, and other things, wide. There was a mechanized dildo and a thing with cups on her breasts, and last, an IV dripping into Mom's arm. She was... obviously not her usual self.

I saw Grandad sitting on a stool watching all this; he did not seem aware of my presence, yet. That bastard! He had drugged Mom, strapped her into that contraption, and was raping her with it while he fucking masturbated!

Anger, no, really, it was rage, flowed through me when I saw what he was doing. I came up behind him and slammed the back of his head as hard as I could with both hands. I didn't even think about it. He went down without a sound, except for the crunch when I hit him and the 'flump' when he hit the ground. He didn't move. Shit! Did I kill him?! At that moment, I didn't care.

I had no idea what that motherfucker was doing to my Mom with all that crap, but it was no wonder She'd been acting weird! I took the VR helmet off her head and she didn't even look around. Fuck! What drugs did he have running into her vein? I pulled the IV out of her arm and then called the police.

"911, what is your emergency?"

"Uh, this is going to sound crazy, but please get cops and an ambulance to..." and I gave my grandfather's address. "There is a medical emergency. A woman has been drugged and raped. The man who assaulted her is knocked out, I think, so please get here as soon as possible!" I gave my name and description, and told the operator I would not move unless the man regained consciousness. I was still on the line with her when I heard the police at the door.

I called to them as I put my hands up, and waited as they came into the room. One checked in with the operator on the phone, while the other checked for a pulse on my grandfather and mother. My mother had one, but my grandfather didn't. The guys from the ambulance came in and started checking my mother out medically. One looked at the IV bag and asked me if I knew what was in it. Of course, I didn't. One officer led me out while the ambulance techs worked on Mom and the other officer examined all the equipment Grandad had been using on Mom.

Officer Nelson had me go over everything I had seen and done from entering the house to calling 911. I laid it all out for him, little as there was, and he had me repeat it twice more. A few minutes after that, four other police officers arrived. I looked at Officer Nelson. "Uh, my Mom is... is naked in there, with those things stuck inside her! Can't you get her clothes back on before all these guys go in?"

"They've got her covered by a blanket, now. Give me a second, I'll check on her."

He stuck his head in the workroom door, then pulled it back saying, "Thanks." He came back to me and told me that they were about to transport my mother to the hospital, and moments later one of the ambulance crew came in with a stretcher. "Your mother appears to have been drugged, and we're not sure what drug he used. Narcan didn't help at all, so it isn't your usual OD. It does look like she was not here of her own will, since he had her handcuffed and chained into that chair, but you saw that." He shook his head. "This is the craziest crime scene I've ever seen!"