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We went out to dinner last night with my cousin Lynne, her husband Dennis, and our mutual friend Ed. One of our favorite restaurants on the river. Mom was doing fine before we left. She had a little something to eat at her normal dinner time, since we were arriving to the restaurant a bit later than normal. We immediately ordered some appetizers so Mom was ok with her meds, and she ordered an Old Fashioned. She hadn't had one for a long time, and she's had a margarita before with no problem, so I let it slide.
Once she started drinking it, the problems began. She was all over the place with her thinking. We would be talking about one subject, and she would go off on a completely different tangent. Talk of Mt Denali turned into trees on our property in Paradise. Tax discussions became lawsuit talk against PG&E for the fire. She couldn't keep her thoughts straight. I tried to telll Mom what she was doing, but she didn't want to listen to me. I just did the best that I could. They all knew that Mom does that sometimes. One fucking drink caused her so many issues.
This morning when she woke up, she couldn't remember what she had for dinner. She was more worried about her blood sugar than the fact that her thinking was everywhere. I talked to her about it, and she just shook her head, and said, "I was fine, there was nothing wrong with me last night."
It wasn't anything that could be helped. I'm sitting here at the keyboard, taking deep breaths, thinking about the progress of mom's deterioration. Just seeing the little bit that happened last night has me scared today. I am nomally a pretty strong person, but I could really use some backup
