So, the sitter met me at the door today with her coat on and her purse on her arm. I figured it had been a bad day. She reported that Moma had been a horse's hind end all day. Nice.
Last night, she woke me up at 3 am whining that she was freezing and had "caught a chill". I have never understood that terminology. She took on like someone had doused her with a Gatorade cooler of ice water. I turned her around and took her back to her room. She stumbled and weaved like a drunk. When we got into her room, she sat on the edge of her bed, leaned over and clutched her legs wailing about being cold. At this point, I will admit, I wanted to kill her. I walked around the bed, made sure her electric blanket was on, and then barked at her to lie down. I covered her up, and she kept saying that I could do that all I wanted but it wasn't going to help. What the crap? I went back to bed WIDE AWAKE. When I got still, I could hear her moaning and wailing. "Jesus! Help me, Jesus! I'm freeeeeezing, Jesus! Help me! JESUUUUUUUS! Oh Jesus...." I got up, went into her room and hollered "Hey! Shut that up, I have to work tomorrow!" She never missed a lick. She continued to carry on, so I slammed her door shut and begged God to take her home!
Needless to say, I woke up 45 minutes late. Ugh....
2 comments:
I remember begging God to take my grandmother home in my moments of weakness and frustration. She, too, was "out of her mind." Unfortunately, He called for her when I least expected it, and was unprepared for it.
I remember Kittie. I have thought about you a lot through this journey of mine. I miss you and love you!
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