My grandfather fell this morning at 3:30 or so. He hit his head on his nightstand. My mother yelled at me to come in there.
There was a splatter of blood on the floor, and his head was bleeding quite a bit.
His glasses had been knocked off when he fell. That sorta' symbolized something to me. Earlier, not 30 minutes prior, he had told my mother to be careful not to knock off his glasses or to drop him. I hope that makes sense.
She called Hospice and I called my father.
He was pale and his whole body was shaking. He was slurring his words.
When my father got there he just held him.
I walked out of the room for a bit and when I walked back in I said, "You shouldn't let him sleep." My father said, "I think he's going to do a lot more than sleep." I told him, "No, I give him at least two days."
My mother called Hospice and asked if they should take him to the hospital or not. My mother told the nurse on call that it looked like he'd need stitches.
Then my mother called back a few minutes later and asked if it would be alright to call an ambulance. They said yes.
So, she did.
I pulled my fathers truck into the yard, next to the front door. I did well, I think.
They took their time. I sarcastically said, "This is the fastest I've ever seen anyone move for an emergency." They were going so slow.
It annoyed me. I felt like they were letting his time slip away. Almost like they didn't care. I was bothered by it. He was just sitting in his wheelchair next to his chair in the living room. He was sorta' slumped over to the right. He didn't look like himself.
No one put his glasses back on him. I'm not sure why.
They left and I sat in the living room and cried. It had been a long day already. I had left once. Just walked to the other house, grabbed a bag of my stuff and left off, walking.
My father caught up to me and had me go to my grandfathers with my mother, so we could talk.
We didn't talk. We watched HGTV. I ate a bit.
Then it all started.
After I was done crying, I went to bed.
I woke up a few times. It was a long night.
Oh My Goodie Goodie Gumdrops.
Hospitalized.
Friday, October 16, 2009
Posted by Atti Ann at 6:24 PM 0 comments
Labels: bad day, family, father, feeling blah, grandfather, life, mother, semi-depressed
Papaw JB
Thursday, October 15, 2009
We thought he was going to die last night.
He was curled up, pale almost grey, his muscles were all rigid, he cried. It hurt him to be touched. He was afraid to sleep, he was afraid he'd die in his sleep.
I cried a bit, just a few tears.
I'm staying there tonight (again). Everything is on hold.
I don't know what to do or say anymore...
And my three cousins (17, 13 and 4) have the flu. Their father might have it. My father is being a jackass and refuses to sit more than 2 hours with his father (my grandfather).
Keith and I have been drifting apart a bit. It's because I spend so much time with my family. I think he understands. But I feel horrible. Today is his birthday. Wait. Or is it the 16th? Sh*t.
That's all for now, I guess.
Posted by Atti Ann at 5:31 PM 0 comments
Labels: family, grandfather, life, semi-depressed
Why me?
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
My laptop has a virus.
Great. Just fantastic.
I have no clue how to fix it.
It's the one where my google searches redirect to weird websites. It's disgusting. Some of them have 'porn-esque' names. I never stick around to find out. Others are about like Punjabi and all. Weird.
So, I am getting really annoyed. I've tried two different programs. One of them keeps freezing as it's time to remove the damn thing (not good). The other doesn't get everything apparently (damn).
Now what?
I have no idea.
I guess I just have to keep trying.
Any advice from the maybe 2 readers I have?
Oh, and on top of that, I just found out that my horse has a huge gash on her back left leg. It is literally 5 inches long and at least 2 inches deep. It's disgusting. It's all swollen and has pus oozing out of it.
This is what I get for having a 'semi-feral' horse, isn't it? I don't know she has an injury until she decides to waltz over and I get a glimpse.
Today is not my day...
Highlight of my day: My father was joking with my grandfather (he's 85/6 and terminally ill--not all there) and told him that my mother was mean and hit him. My grandfather said, "I don't want that bi**h to get mad at me." We couldn't stop laughing. My mother was in the kitchen and didn't hear it. It was hillarious.
Posted by Atti Ann at 11:04 PM 0 comments
Labels: bad day, father, grandfather, horse, laptop, life, mother, virus
