Day 3 - Who's Bed Is This?

The daily landscape with Myrtle is jagged.  Hour by hour there are dicey variations in her perception of reality.  My responses have to be fluid and in sync with her mood or she gets agitated or worse, weepy.  The rough patches in conversation last night went something like this:

Myrt:  (in her most demanding impatient voice) Why am I  here?  Where is this?  Who's bed is this?

Me:  That's your bed mom and you are in my home in NJ.

Myrt:  Oh, no, no, no, this place isn't safe.  You should be afraid.  There is a large monster outside.        Take me home.  This is not my bed!  shouting now

Me:   I'm gonna take care of you mom.  This is your home now.

Myrt:   My father is waiting for me at my apartment.  He's there now.  I have to go now.  She tries to get up, not remembering that she cannot walk and seems stunned that she's unable to stand up.

Me:   After giving her meds to calm her down and settling her into bed: Mom, I hope you sleep tight, I love you.

Myrt:   I just had a baby, a beautiful baby boy,  you should see all the hair he has.

We took a walk in the rain this morning and it was rather fun for us both.  She laughed at the drizzle on her sneakers.   That was a highlight.

I ordered a garment rack so I'd have a place to hang her clothes in this dining-room-turned-bedroom. Today, I unboxed it on the floor next to her, to assemble it nearby, while she watched cartoons. She looked at the many labeled parts laid out on the floor and shook her head, stating flatly:  "You need a man for that.  You'll never put that thing together."   This was all I needed to hear.   I was gonna assemble that dang garment rack if it was the last thing I did this day.   And I did assemble it.   When a few parts fell off when I moved it, she laughed gleefully.

Her clothes are hanging neatly on this lopsided rack and Peter rolled his eyes when he saw it.  Why didn't you wait till I got home?  Gah!