Went to bed at my, as of lately, usual time of 5:30 a.m. Woke to The Curmudgeon’s voice on the phone, “I’m down and I can’t get up.”

Leap out of bed, heart pounding, adrenaline rushing, cussing, mad.

Why?

I had less than three and one half hours of sleep.

I went to bed thinking, “Wow, I don’t have to run anywhere today, I can sleep in!”

Yeah, Nope.

Hurt my back again trying to get him up into his chair and later upstairs and into his bed.

Nope. There was no help.

Yep, I actually went knocking on doors to find some. No responses.

No, I won’t call 911 for help because it’s not life threatening and they frown on it.

Yes, I did tell him that if I hit the lottery I was outta here. Granted, I’d make sure he was well taken care of…

I just can’t do this much more without losing my sanity completely.