Groundhog Day

Mom did not sleep well last night.  She was, and is, anxious about wh. or not she ought to get a knee brace.  The 'what time is it, Peggy?"  calls began at 330am, and continued on an hourly basis until 7am, when I finally realized "nessun dorma" and got up.  At one point during the calls, I replied a little sarcastically that it was 'still dark, and I can't see the time without my glasses" to which Queen Lear replied 'you are so cruel to me".  Mom gets very melodramatic when she is sleep deprived:  a cross between Mildred Pierce and an early Christian Martyr".

Not that I am a morning person either, especially when my blood glucose is low ( this morning, it was 52)  I guess the message is try to be courteous  despite the time or health issues.  It can't be much fun being 83, stuck in bed, and confused on top of it, only to be answered by a cranky daughter.

  Speaking of children, it's no wonder that old age is often described as 'second childhood".  This morning, that thought made its' way through my curdled brain, and I realized 'if I change her Depends, and get her comfortable, perhaps she might go back to sleep."  I got her a clean adult diaper, wipes, and changed the wet depends.  Sure enough, Mom's mood improved dramatically, and I was no longer labelled as 'a thankless child".  After washing, cleaning and changing, I put a couple of warm blankets on Mom, and she fell asleep.

It's funny, how age makes a person regress, and the child becomes the parent figure.  Neither of us is comfortable with the role reversal, but I find it gets easier.