Frantic

As I drove to work, thankful for my new job, I thought I’d just better check and make sure the caregiver arrived. I left at 7:30 anticipating the 8:00 arrival. Grace was still sleeping. I left a big sign saying that someone would be there at 8:00. As long as she has that sign, she does okay. So I called the house…

Ring ring ring…

Fortunately I don’t have to worry about her wandering out of the house. I’ve seen her try to navigate the back door. She approaches it as if she were trying to cross a pit of vipers while barefoot. Carefully and cautiously, she edges toward the door, sliding her feet slowly while reaching and waving hands like someone slapping around the dark for a light switch. Nope she’s not going anywhere. Gotta be able to work the door to make your escape.

Ring ring ring…

But the stove… could she start the stove? Turn on a burner? Would she suddenly try? She could turn on the gas, not get the starter going and the house could fill with fumes… or what if she DID get the fire going? Would that be worse or better? Did I leave the knobs on the stove? Did I?!?!?

Ring ring ring…

Or maybe she’d fall. That’d be ugly. Once she’s down, that’s it. The dogs would probably lick her until she drowned. Or what if she hit something and was bleeding? Or if she broke a bone? She’d snap like a twig.

Ring ring ring…

No one was going to pick up that phone. So I called the neighbor. No car in the driveway. Nope, she WAS alone.

I KNEW what happened. The agency sent out too many schedules and too many adjustments. No dates on the schedules so no one knows what’s the latest.

No one picked up at the agency (naturally) so I called the caregiver who was home waiting to give birth. SHE CAME…YAY!!!!!

And while I’m frantic, where is Grace?

Sleeping…