ast week she slept 18 out of 24 hours every day. This week, it’s just about the reverse. Her moods swing to the extremes. At first, she’s weak and panting, eyes almost closed, unsteady on her feet. She won’t sit, won’t lie down. She walks — small baby-steps. Hands, nose, and feet like ice. Then suddenly she’s smiling, wants to dance, strolls around her room, pokes through closets and drawers. And then she sits, head in hands, mumbling softly, but I can’t understand a word she’s saying.
After six hours of this, I have a meltdown. An extreme meltdown. Six hours is all I can take; then I need a break to do something. DO SOMETHING other than baby-sit someone I can’t even have a conversation with but can’t ignore to keep my mind and hands busy. My sib has to take over. I sit myself down in front of my sewing machine and do some mending/adjusting/hemming. Sewing calms me down because I have to focus on what I’m doing, block everything else out.
This has been an extremely frustrating day for me. It’s 11:30 p.m. and she’s still not asleep. But I sure want to be.