Longest I have gone without sleep - well, in a lifetime of chronic insomnia, yet one weekend lives forever in my memory for sheer endurance, emotion, strangeness and Auld Lang Syne. Ten days before their deaths, I had the weekend shift both nights with my parents. I had been asleep for about an hour, when "something" awakened me. I tiptoed into their room, and didn't see my mother OR father. I went towards the bathroom to check, and found my dad on the floor wedged partly under his side of the bed. Okay - it took nearly 20 minutes for me to unwedge him and then lift him from behind. Then another half hour to get him into the wheelchair and to the bathroom, hose him down, change him, change the sheets, change him again and get him back into bed. All this time, wondering where the hell my mom is...
I'll never forget tucking him in, hey, Dad, we had an adventure, huh? And he smiled and said, Thanks, Penny.
Then I tracked her down in the kitchen, "preparing" breakfast for him. It had taken her the whole hour to bring out pots and pans to the table, carry the entire knife block, with all the knives to the table, and put various items in various configurations around the room. Took me until 6 ayem to convince her it was night time, let's get to bed. (The Thing was eating her brain... she was very confused, but still In Control Of The Whole World). That stuff went on for the whole next day and night - and Monday morning when Tami got in at 6:45, I took off. Grueling, yes. Physically exhausting. Messy. Disturbing. heartbreaking. It became a Zen exercise, and I loved them so much. That weekend is one of my tenderest memories of my whole life with those two wacky little Jews.