Feeble is as feeble does

This afternoon when I came in, Moma was napping in a ball on the couch. She soon woke up and told me that she was going to bed (after she rambled through the mail, my book bag and everything on the counter). She went to her room, closed her door, and went to sleep, I think. In about 20 minutes, she came into the den like she was in a big hurry. "Hey Julie......JULIE!!!" She started down the steps and came at me at record speed. She grabbed my arm and said, "Hey, I wanted to tell you that I am up there in my room. Okay?" I nodded. " I just wanted you to know where I am". Again, she goes back to bed. In no less than 10 minutes, I heard her coming again. "Hon, something's wrong with me. I'm afraid to stay by myself. Can I sit down here with you?" I nodded. In about 10 more minutes, she popped up and said, "Igottagotobed". She stumbled, I helped her. As soon as we got into her room, she said, "I guess we won't have any supper tonight". I asked why she thought that. "Well, " and motioned around the room as if to say, you are putting me to bed. Duh.......the feebleness is getting worse.