I really messed up this time

I really messed up this time.

That’s what mom told me on the phone yesterday afternoon about 4pm. 

This is how the conversation went:

Me:  “Hello?”

Mom:  “Hey. Can you come get me?”

Me: “No, mom I can’t, I’m at work. What’s wrong?”

Mom:  “I really messed up this time I think”

Cue panic!

Me:  “What? What happened?”

Mom:  “I don’t know, but I need you to come.  I messed up. “

Me:  “What happened?”

Mom:  “I don’t know”

It always takes me a few minutes to realize, hello, she can’t convey the thought, talk to someone who can! It’s hard to realize that your parent can’t communicate. This back and forth went on for a bit until I said:  Can I talk to the nurse?

Mom:  “Sure”

Nurse:  Hello?

Me: Is mom ok? She told me she had “really messed up?”

Nurse:  “She’s fine, she’s had a good day, went to the beauty shop and got her hair done, when she got back she asked me to call you. “

Translation:  “Can you come see my new hairdo before I mess it up?”

*whew* this is the strangest disease.

As I told a friend earlier today, this journey has been about unseen shoes dropping. I know that getting her placed at this particular nursing home was a huge blessing, but I live in fear of the “we can’t handle her “ call, even though, logically I know they can.

It just seems that every time we are smooth sailing again, something pops up (don’t get me started on the hidden mail again! I just recently was mortified AGAIN by some mail that had to have been hidden her last week or so at the house – uggh!) 

*Edit typed this us last night but forgot to publish