My husband is very ill and on hospice, and I needed a secondary place to crash on the bad nights when he’s tossing, turning, and moaning in pain in his sleep. Unfortunately, every other “bedroom” in the house has become basically glorified storage rooms over the years, and are unusable. My friend (bless her) volunteered to help me clean out and set up one of the bedrooms. Since desperate times call for desperate measures, I forced myself to swallow my pride and get over my embarrassment, and let her help me. Seeing that merely entering the bedroom/storage area had placed me in a sort of panicked fugue, however, my friend asked me if she could take charge, and I gratefully agreed.