Life with Auntie Angie

I asked Ange to come over Saturday and to my surprise, she said yes. To my greater surprise, when we got there, she had packed a bag and was planning on staying the night. I had just thought she'd come over and watch an old movie with us and then we'd take her back home. This is the first time she's spent the night since she stayed here and had her stroke.

Saturday night was fine, but last night was a doozie. At 1AM she woke me up because her neck was hurting. She said it was throbbing. She was concerned about it being a vein--ie, having another stroke. She took some pain pills and then two baby aspirins and I gave her a hot bean bag and we both went back to bed. At 4AM she got me up and said that I needed to call her daughter Pat, she was wetting her pants "like crazy" and wanted Pat to bring her another pair of pajama bottoms (!). Her neck was still hurting her. I called Pat (reluctantly) and she told Ange that there was nothing she could do for her but take her to the hospital, so she could call 911 and Pat would meet her there if she wanted to, but bringing her home wouldn't do any good because there wasn't anything they could do for her there that we couldn't do here. I gave Ange a pair of Poise disposable panties and brought her in a clean pair of pants (sort of like yoga pants). We hung up with Pat and she put them on. Angie said she had thought she was going to die. Honestly, I know it sounds cold of me, but I don't understand why people who are so religious are so incredibly afraid to die.

I got her a cold bean bag from the freezer and she said that felt better than the hot one. I sat and talked with her a while. She said she thought they'd know what was wrong with her at the hospital. I told her that she could go if she wanted to, but she wasn't sweating, didn't have a fever, was walking around fine...didn't have any symptoms of a stroke or heart attack, in other words. I thought they wouldn't know what was wrong with her. They'd put her on a hard table, stick an IV in her, run a lot of tests, take x-rays, and keep her in the hospital for days trying to figure it out. Plus, without the "right" symptoms, they might not send an ambulance for her, or at least not immediately. I finally got her to agree to lie down and I went back to bed.

At around 5:30 Mary had to use the potty and Angie came in while I was getting her up. She said that there had been someone knocking and knocking at the back door and when she'd gone to answer it, there had been a young girl standing there, maybe 15 or 16, looked to be black, with short, curly hair, and she'd just grinned from one ear to the other. Angie said she'd closed the door and locked it. I just thought, hmph, because you can't lock our back door. There's a storm door which I keep locked but the lock on the main door is broken. That made me nervous as to whether the back door was open with some deranged person out there. Angie wanted me to go check, but she was too scared to go with me. I told her I was scared, too! But I went to look. No one there and the door was locked. There was a note from the fridge on the floor where Angie must have knocked it off. Personally, I never heard anyone knocking and I sleep rather lightly since I have to listen for Mary, but maybe I'd slept sounder since I'd been so tired.

I got Mary back into bed and then Angie surprised me by saying that she didn't want to go back into "that part of the house," meaning the living room where the couch is, where she sleeps. I said she could sleep with me, of course. I kicked the cat out of my bed and we settled down, but I couldn't sleep. I'm not used to having anyone in my bed with me and I was on the cat's side, which is covered with hair. Plus, Angie was breathing deeply and then started to snore, so I got up. She woke up, of course, and wanted to get up and go back to the couch to quit bothering me, but I told her I was going to go have a cup of tea and for her to go back to sleep. She couldn't believe that she'd been asleep. I think she sleeps a lot more than she thinks she does. She thinks she lies awake all night most nights. I guess that's normal for old people to think that, or maybe anyone who's an insomniac. You dose, but you don't realize it.

Anyway, I got up and checked the back door again. I don't know. I just can't believe that there was someone there. When I asked why she had opened it, she said she thought it was Pat. That answer only reinforced my belief that she had been dreaming or imgining it because there was no way in hell that Pat was going to come here. She should know that. She has a story about someone shining a flashlight in her room about a month ago and says no one in her family believes her; they say she imagines things. I wonder if she still hears the voices. I told her that it might have been our new newspaper carrier. They had been advertising for one and maybe the new one was just some stupid girl who didn't know any better. I don't begin to believe that, but I wanted to tell her something. Odd, odd.

At least I've managed to keep my cool. That's a sign of personal growth for me. Of course, I worry that I'm going to get a migraine now since I've had such little sleep--counting the times I've had to get up to pee, take Mary to pee and give Mary water for her cough. Angie thinks, btw, that I should take Mary to the doctor about her cough, so I suppose I will. I'm taking her to the podiatrist on Wednesday because one of her toes is sore and there's dried blood under the side of the nail. I told Angie that maybe she was having migraine symptoms--from lack of sleep and perhaps more caffeine than she's used to getting. She didn't buy that. She thinks she's cracked a bone in her neck or collar--while lying here sleeping. All I can do is heave a big sigh because that sounds like the biggest bunch of malarky I've ever heard, but I don't want to argue with her. She's proved me wrong many times before. I guess we'll take her home as soon as Mary can get ready to go this morning.