As often happens, I woke up at 4:30 this morning. This always annoys me. I like sleep better than just about anything. It's my major chill-out time and I want every drop of it I can get.
But, as often happens when this happens, I was still awake at 5:30, no point trying any longer; I got my Nook and went to the living room. I was reading Oswald Chambers' "The Pilgrim's Song Book" (commentary on Psalms 120-128), highlighting many passages that apply to my current bad attitude (not lifting mine eyes enough, no wonder not much help has been forthcoming.) Heard a distant thump and thought either the dog had let himself out the dog door or the stiff wind had knocked something down.
Then I heard my mother call me. Uh-oh. She was lying on the floor between her bathroom and bedroom, said, "I'm sick," which was evident in a variety of ways. ~Sigh~ My mother is one of the issues I've been letting myself have a bad attitude about, feeling mentally and emotional bled dry. The nurse I used to be came back and I started assessing and cleaning up a patient, enough to cover her with a blanket and get my husband to help me get her off the floor. She was able to walk to bed with help. Finished the cleanup, checked her vital signs, left her to rest. She's obviously got a bug, the exiting-both-directions kind. She's 90; I'll need to watch her for dehydration and/or deterioration.
My husband and I are planning an Appalachian Trail summer, with him driving and me hiking, meeting every few days for a day hike, a night, a re-supply. The last couple hours I've kept thinking, "If we hadn't been here..." but she's got a Life Alert bracelet, and I'm arranging for a variety of people to check in on her daily, so it's not like I'm planning on abandonment.
If I'd been asleep I might not have heard her call. She has a bell but it was on her nightstand out of reach. Thank you, Lord, for waking me up early and sending me out to the living room.