The Little Princess Cries Wolf

As you know, Moma has started having frequent "dying" spells. She carries on and calls out to Jesus. You just swear she won't live through the night, but the next morning, she is up stomping through the house like she has never felt better. Ugh....I know this is horrible, and please don't think bad of me, but during a specifically dramatic dying spell, I caught myself planning where the furniture would go back in that room once she finally died. I was looking at the mirror thinking, now I can put the chest back under that, and the other bed will go under the window. AWFUL, I know, but it is just something that happens. If she died every time she had a dying spell, I'd swear she was just a 'possum playing dead. Cats don't have enough lives for her to be a cat.
She began tonight's spell with gagging. She got up from her chair in the den and said, "I'm 'bout to throw up". I followed her, made her sit down and put the trash can in front of her. She started coughing and gagging, hocking and spewing, spitting and sputtering like steam heat. She was NOT throwing up, she was spitting up (God knows what) clear drainage. Then she went to her room where the real fun began. She was "hurtin'" and she wanted a pill. I called my sister and told her about the performance and she said that she had her esophagus irritated to give her 2 Tylenol and a Pepsid. I did. She hollered for the next hour for that pill. She acted like a drunk woman. She carried on until I thought, If you don't die in your sleep, I'm killing you in the morning. Again, AWFUL! I finally gave up and went in there to sit with her. She acted so ugly that she brought the wrath of Mr. Payne on her. She told him to shut up and let her alone. The whole time he was fussing at her, she covered her eyes, then her ears and made slapping motions toward him. She covered her whole head with the blanket. After he left the room, she flipped and flopped, turned and twisted, wiggled and squirmed like a 4 year old fighting sleep. Then she began her ritual of sleep talking. "I ain't gone do it!" (one of my personal favorites) and "I bet I can!" "Shet up" "I ain't gone tell you" and on and on. I think she was fighting Kerry in her sleep. I wish I'd videoed it but I've already admitted my awful thoughts.....I don't want to be arrested for granny porn with her feet in the air and her hind end exposed to the world.
I have to get up in the morning, but she has me so worked up....here I sit at this laptop.