-- Napoleon Bonaparte --
I had a scare yesterday, Sunday. I went to the refrigerator yesterday morning for milk for my cereal, and found a storage container containing pork stuffed with bread, apples, celery, and raisins.
I recognized the storage container as the same set my daughter has, but I swear I had no idea where this one came from, or how long it had been there! Daughter and I had talked about stuffed beef rolls and stuffed pork chops a few days ago, recipies she'd remembered me making when she was small, and she'd loved them and wanted to know how to make them. I assumed this had come from her, because of the container, but I swear I don't recall her having given it to me. I had considered making stuffed chops myself and taking some over to her, but I didn't remember actually doing it.
I was floored. I know my memory is sometimes faulty, and for the past two weeks I've suspected the anesthesiologist in White Plains had given me Versed or something in the same family in spite of my having told him it causes me severe memory problems, because little things have been slipping the past few weeks, like anything that takes less than a few seconds I might not remember, but this is BIG! Whether I made it or Daughter gave it to me, it would have taken more than a few seconds, and I don't remember it!
It really scared me. I was afraid to mention it to Daughter, to ask, because she seems to think I'm pretty decrepit already.
Sunday afternoon she asked if I'd found the pork, and if I liked it. Found? Um, yeah, but how did it get there?
After my interrupted sleep Thursday night, utter dehydration, and severe IV trauma Friday followed by almost an hour of intense trembling (which is major muscle exercise!), I was completely wrung out on Saturday. I was cold and tired, and at about 7 pm I went upstairs and crawled into bed, still dressed. I just wanted to get warm in my soft fluffy nest, and maybe nap a little.
I fell asleep over a crossword puzzle and woke up at 3:30 am. Went downstairs, was surprised to find that the kitchen TV, lights, and computer were off (I had assumed I'd left them on), went outside for a cigarette, and then went back to bed. And fell asleep immediately again.
That's what I know.
What I didn't know:
Daughter had brought the pork over at 7:30 pm-ish Saturday. She rang the doorbell twice. When she got no answer, she tried the door. It was unlocked, so she came in. She knew I had to be home because of the unlocked door, my purse on the counter, Hal in the garage, and Fred in the driveway. She called me several times. She put the pork in the refrigerator, then went upstairs to look for me.
She found me in the bed with the light on, the covers up to my ears (so she didn't know I was fully dressed) and my face planted on the open crossword puzzle book. She said "Mommy? Are you ok?" a few times, but I was obviously comfortably asleep. She didn't want to startle me by touching me. So she went back to the kitchen, turned everything off, and left, locking the door behind her.
I can't believe I didn't hear the doorbell and didn't wake when she called or spoke to me. Seriously. That almost scares me. But I guess I really was completely worn out.
And I'm not quite as crazy as I was afraid I might be.
(The pork, once I knew it hadn't been sitting there for weeks, was delicious.)