She fell asleep watching television, reading, even at the computer. She fell asleep anywhere but in her bed.
“There’s something wrong with me. I can’t stay awake.”
“No there isn’t. You’re ninety Mum. Old people sleep a lot. Even I nod off watching telly.”
“Why don’t you knit for refugees? I can give you some wool. Scarves? Hats?” Beryl suggested in the communal dining room when Mum again complained of her narcolepsy.
She started knitting while she read and watched TV. The pile of hats grew, eventually occluding the sun. “I don’t know how to get them to the refugees.”