I have not felt well for the last several days – dizzy spells, mental confusion (I love that term; is there any other kind?) and just a general case of what my Nana always called The Dwindles.
The Squire mentioned this morning that when I was taking the clothes off the washing line, I walked as if the ground was sloping away from whichever direction I was headed. After dinner (mid-day meal) we cleared the table, and I apparently went up to take a nap, which I do NOT remember doing.
I was awakened by the bedroom door slamming open, and Blazer putting his cold nose on my hand. The clock said 5:25, which is awfully early for The Squire to be up, but I suddenly realized his side of the bed had not been disturbed. Scared me to death! I leapt out of bed, had another dizzy spell, and staggered into the guest room. No sign of the man. Came downstairs, to find him lying in the recliner.
Dear heavens, he must have been reading a book and died right there in the chair. Well, before I call 911, I’d better go to the bathroom, and put on something a little less revealing that my night-clothes, because they’ll want me to stay on the line until the ambulance arrives. I put the dog out to make a puddle, did what I had to do, and then went back to the living room.
He’d moved his arm! Phew! Thank God! I carefully closed the doors between the living room and the dining room, and did all the early morning stuff – gave the dog and cat their breakfasts, filled the bird feeders, took my meds – and fixed myself a cup of coffee, while I contemplated what my life might have been.
A few minutes later, The Squire wandered into the kitchen to ask if I had had a nice nap. Nap? I’d apparently slept three hours, and it was now 6:00 in the evening!