I got up at my regular time on Saturday and was on the road by 5:45, heading to Alabama to see my folks. And it was quite fascinating. I was surprised to find that I was not the only early-bird. What do people do at that time on a Saturday morning? Hmmm.
I caught the most magnificent sunrise as I headed east on the county road to hit the interstate. I-65 was very heavily trafficked with, I guess, fans headed to Tuscaloosa for the football game. It was a far more pleasant drive home this afternoon.
I was at Mom & Dad's by about 8:30 and wound up taking Mom to a couple of yard sales. She was quite the Chatty Cathy everywhere we went. The first words out of her mouth to anyone who would listen were "I had a stroke" which reminded me of Aunt Aida in Cold Comfort Farm announcing sternly "I saw something nasty in the woodshed". And by the time we left one house, we knew that the owner taught my nieces in school; at another we discovered that the homeowner had attended the same high school as Mom and that we all had acquaintances in common.
We settled in to watch the game Saturday afternoon...Alabama won, but they tried very hart not to. Afterwards, I cooked supper. I fixed Kraut and Smoked Sausage, fried okra, and potato salad. I don't like potato salad. I can certainly live without it. But either I was in a weird taste phase or I made some really good potato salad. I ate two helpings last night and more today for lunch.
Mom frightened me today. She wasn't feeling well this morning so we sent Dad off to church and I stayed with her. I was in the kitchen when I heard her shouting from the family room. I ran in to find her sitting in her recliner waving her right hand above her head. When I asked what was wrong, she said "I couldn't move this arm" waving her right arm in my direction.
"You're moving it now."
"I know. I couldn't move it earlier."
"I don't know."
And later she announced that she had to go to the bathroom. I put her walker in front of her and she stood. And she stood. And she stood. So I asked...
"Mom, is everything okay?"
"Were you going to the bathroom?"
"I guess I'll go to this one." And she turned toward the guest bath.
I pointed out that she was, in fact, closer to her own bath and that it was outfitted with a handicapped toilet and hand rails.
"OH! Then I'll go there."
I shared my concern from this particular incident with Dad and suggested that he make an appointment for her at the stroke center at UAB. I was quite persuasive. But I think I'll call Sis for back-up.
I got home around 6:30 this evening and have managed a nap and a soak in the tub since. Now I'm off to bed.