Last night, I had a throbbing headache. (Thanks for passing those on, Mom!) I went to bed early and took one Benadryl. (I still have it this morning. *sigh*) So, I slept pretty hard for about 7 hours or so, before waking up from a really bizarre dream.
In my dream, I was taking some of my students to a large field so that we could look at the stars and use my Google Sky Map app for real. We have used it in real life, but it isn't as much fun when you can't see the stars to match. I am all excited, trying to point out to the kids how you can see the actual constellations and planets in the sky, but they quickly lost interest. (They are ages 3-6.)
So, somehow the dream shifts and we are in some kind of seminar about keeping yourself safe, as well as child development. I am there with a couple of my colleagues, some old friends from back in the high school and college days, and a couple of students. Somehow, I am back on campus in the town where my parents retired, also where I went to school. I am feeling guilty because I have traveled all this way for the seminar, but have not gone to see my mom. My BFF keeps reminding me that it probably isn't the right time to squeeze in a side trip, how upset my mother gets when I do visit, and how hard it could potentially be on me. So, I acquiesce to simply taking the BFF and one other person on a quick tour of campus before we all pile in the cars to head back to NY.
We get to the new building that houses the pool. (My university is in a massive rebuilding phase right now.) I want to take them in there, even though it looks crowded, because this pool is supposed to be amazing. When we go in, I notice that my mom's nursing home is there on some kind of a field trip, and she is sitting in an armchair in the corner!
I go running over to her and introduce myself. "Hi, Mom. I'm Andrea." She snaps at me, "I know who you are," but by her conversation, I know she has no idea. I go ahead and introduce her to my BFF, even though they met a couple of times a few years ago. BFF is wiping tears away, because she has heard about the degeneration, but can't believe it.
The conversation with Mom continues in circles as it usually does. A nurse comes over to take Mom away for her medication, and I realize she is wearing a neck brace. It had been covered up by a blanket. I ask what had happened, because I am usually the one notified when something happens to her. The nurse says she isn't sure, but that it seemed to be more of a panacea than anything actually medically necessary. I wonder briefly if she is reliving 16 years ago when she had back surgery and then remember that she is much farther behind than that anymore.
I feel sad, yet relieved, as she is wheeled away. The three of us turn to head back to the cars. And then I wake up, 10 minutes before the alarm is set to go off.