You noticing a theme here? Last night I was this, and tonight, toast.
Maybe tomorrow I'll be a hash brown or a biscuit, but probably I'll be a grit. A single grit.
I arrived at ICU today only to learn 25 minutes later that mom had been moved to a regular room on (gasp!) the same floor as last week.
I went straight to her room and got the verbal lashing tirade that can only come from a poor, confused, ill, 85 year old woman. They moved her, naturally, while she was sleeping and so she woke up in a different room and was totally confused. She'd ranted and raved and told the floor nurses to call the police to find me and tell me where she was.
Then she reamed me out for not being there 24/7.
We got her calmed down and the rest of the day went pretty peacefully with only the occasional demand for cigarettes. Near the end of the day she asked for something for a headache. The nurse said, "I only have morphine, is that okay?" Hell, yeah.
Please don't think I'm callous or unkind here; I love my mom, but she can try the most patient of souls! I'm trying very hard to be patient and understanding. That's why I'm toast, today.
And tomorrow, I'll be a grit.