Sunday, April 7, 2013
Yesterday, we woke up from a phone call telling us my grandmother was in the hospital. This surprised me, since I just spoke with her on the phone the night before, and although she sounded tired, I had no idea she was feeling as ill as she was.
Apparently, she's been bleeding internally for over two weeks. Being the stubborn woman she is, she didn't bother to tell anyone she was having any problems. She's always been a strong woman. She's one of those people who wouldn't tell you she's in pain or sick because she always believes she's either putting you out in some way or she thinks whatever is going on with her will improve and she'll feel better. This has always been something I've always fussed at her about, but she's set in her ways and when it comes to complaining or health issues, I might as well be arguing to a brick wall because she's going to do what she's going to do.
She lives almost two hours away from me, so it seemed like it took us forever to get to the hospital. When we arrived her room was filled with my other family members, and although it was good to see them, my eyes zeroed onto the fragile, pale figure on the bed. I was startled by tiny she looked and by her sweet, pale face, but it didn't stop me from thinking how beautiful I think she is or how much I love her. (Stubbornness and all)
Her blood count was low, so she's been given several pints of blood as well as some kind of strong antibiotic. They are going to keep her for several days and will be running a lot of tests on her. Throughout the years, she's had a lot of health issues. She's had heart attacks, one functioning kidney, she's had a stroke and she's almost totally blind. Every time something goes wrong with her, it makes me catch my breath. I fear of losing her. I fear my life without her sunny smile and the unconditional love she's always given me. I freely admit I'm scared. In July, she'll be 85 and sometimes I feel as if I have borrowed time with her. She's always been spunky, sweet and a lot of fun, but in the past few years, her zest for life has diminished. She once told me that if you are lucky enough to live long enough, you somehow outlive your usefulness to others. People stop seeing you as a person, but just as someone who doesn't matter. I cried like a baby when she told me this, but soon afterward, I noticed that when we took her places, she would be ignored by sales staff, waiters and so on, so I began to understand what she meant by it.
I've made it my purpose in life for her to know how much I love her, respect her and need her in our lives. I know having a strong will to live can get you through a lot in life and I want to make sure she has the determination to get through her day and to have something to live for. I hope I've succeeded in doing this, but you never know.
I feel like she'll come through whatever is going on with her okay, but I would really appreciate it if you would keep her in your good thoughts. She means the world to me and without her, I'd be totally lost.
Thank you. *Hugs*