Expect the unexpected

We were invited to a friend's birthday party last night. Mom was doing very well, even actually remembering that we were going (after I reminded her). She picked out which clothes she wanted to wear and asked my opinion about them. She washed her hair (which I have to ask her to do or she won't do it).

While she was resting, I felt comfortable enough to make a quick trip to the store to pick up a gift and some extra ingredients for the potato salad I volunteered to make.

When I returned from my trip, everything was going well. I made my salad, got the dog ready to go and Mom said she was going to take a shower. I reminded her what time we needed to leave and told her how much time she had and then I ran through the shower myself.

I just finished dressing, and noticed I had enough time to gather everything and everyone into the car, when Mom appeared in her bedroom door with only her panties on. I was dumbfounded and asked what was going on, that we only had about five minutes before we should leave.

"I made a mess," she said. So I followed her into her bedroom thinking that she had a bad experience on the toilet. "I just kept turning around and around in my bathroom and I didn't know what to do," she said. "I finally got into the shower and washed. But now I don't know what else to do."

Gently I guided her through getting dressed, putting her shoes on and combing her hair. She changed her mind about what to wear and finally seemed satisfied about her choice.

Now I am the type of person who HATES to be late for anything. And although I was chomping at the bit to leave, I knew this was one of those times that my support group buddy would remind me to, "Expect the unexpected." And although we were about a half hour late, it really wasn't that big of a deal.

I worried about Mom all night at the party, but she had a really good time. She ate really well and even visited a little. Since she's so hard of hearing (and refuses to get a hearing aid), visiting isn't easy for her, but she did very well. She really hasn't socialized much since her diagnosis in April, so this was good for her.

Without my support group system though, I think I would already be crazy or at least drinking heavily. My friends and the support group I attend are helping tremendously. I thank God for them.

And this is yet another reminder that I must be more conscious of how bad Mom is and that our lives seem to be changing every single day.