So it's been pretty fucked up today.
I get a call about 11am from my mother. She tells me my Nan had a fall and was on her way to the hospital in an ambulance closely followed by my granddad and my folks. That's quite a bit to take in after only being awake 10 minutes. I asked her if I should go to the hospital and she told me to stay put and she'd call me later.
To be honest, I didn't really feel anything; I guess it just didn't really sink in. I wasn't upset or anything and I guess I felt shitty because of that. I suppose things like that only hit you some time after. Fast forward to about 2 o'clock this afternoon.
I get another call from my mum who's stepped outside for a smoke. She tells me that my Nan has broken her hip and she starts to cry. She says she doesn't think Nan will make it through this time, with a poor state of health; this would put her over the edge. I managed to calm her down a little and I said I’d call my dad and fill him in and tell him to get down to the hospital (he'd had to leave the hospital...but that's another long story).
I find out afterwards why she was so negative. The A&E (I guess that's ER to you peeps in the US) doctor said something along the lines of "I don't know if there's a lot we can do for her" and my Nan started talking all doomsday "I'm not going home...I just want to die." Hence why my mum was in tears.
Rewind about 8 or 9 years.
My Nan basically cheated death by surviving a broken neck and the subsequent operation. I was about 12 at the time and it was a pretty fucked up thing for me (well, and her obviously!). All I can say is the Irish are made of some strong shit.
Fast forward back to about 4 o'clock.
I get another call from my mum and they're on their way home. The fracture isn't as bad as first thought. They've moved her up onto a ward (working on that ward as a nurse is a girl I used to work with before she became a nurse...I used to work at that same hospital) and they are going to operate first thing tomorrow morning. They don't have to replace the hip; it'll be a reparative operation via keyhole surgery. The only thing they're not sure of is how she'll be with the anaesthetic so the operation may be done under epidural, but until they speak to the anaesthetist they don’t know.
Not exactly what I had planned for my Saturday, but there you go.
I'll be visiting her tomorrow after the operation, if all goes well I guess. I'm kinda dreading it. I hate hospitals and I don't really want to see my Nan lying there. Also she's slowly been losing her marbles and the last couple of times I’ve been to see her she hasn't recognised me. It's hard because it's almost like she's a different person to the one I grew up with. She's lost a lot of weight and is basically skin and bone. She just doesn't eat, no matter how hard my granddad tries. She never goes out either; staring at the same four walls must be enough to drive anyone crazy. I even 'acquired' a wheelchair when I worked at the hospital so my granddad could take her out but she refused. She's her own worst enemy, I swear.
Anyways, I'll keep you all posted.
Peace
I get a call about 11am from my mother. She tells me my Nan had a fall and was on her way to the hospital in an ambulance closely followed by my granddad and my folks. That's quite a bit to take in after only being awake 10 minutes. I asked her if I should go to the hospital and she told me to stay put and she'd call me later.
To be honest, I didn't really feel anything; I guess it just didn't really sink in. I wasn't upset or anything and I guess I felt shitty because of that. I suppose things like that only hit you some time after. Fast forward to about 2 o'clock this afternoon.
I get another call from my mum who's stepped outside for a smoke. She tells me that my Nan has broken her hip and she starts to cry. She says she doesn't think Nan will make it through this time, with a poor state of health; this would put her over the edge. I managed to calm her down a little and I said I’d call my dad and fill him in and tell him to get down to the hospital (he'd had to leave the hospital...but that's another long story).
I find out afterwards why she was so negative. The A&E (I guess that's ER to you peeps in the US) doctor said something along the lines of "I don't know if there's a lot we can do for her" and my Nan started talking all doomsday "I'm not going home...I just want to die." Hence why my mum was in tears.
Rewind about 8 or 9 years.
My Nan basically cheated death by surviving a broken neck and the subsequent operation. I was about 12 at the time and it was a pretty fucked up thing for me (well, and her obviously!). All I can say is the Irish are made of some strong shit.
Fast forward back to about 4 o'clock.
I get another call from my mum and they're on their way home. The fracture isn't as bad as first thought. They've moved her up onto a ward (working on that ward as a nurse is a girl I used to work with before she became a nurse...I used to work at that same hospital) and they are going to operate first thing tomorrow morning. They don't have to replace the hip; it'll be a reparative operation via keyhole surgery. The only thing they're not sure of is how she'll be with the anaesthetic so the operation may be done under epidural, but until they speak to the anaesthetist they don’t know.
Not exactly what I had planned for my Saturday, but there you go.
I'll be visiting her tomorrow after the operation, if all goes well I guess. I'm kinda dreading it. I hate hospitals and I don't really want to see my Nan lying there. Also she's slowly been losing her marbles and the last couple of times I’ve been to see her she hasn't recognised me. It's hard because it's almost like she's a different person to the one I grew up with. She's lost a lot of weight and is basically skin and bone. She just doesn't eat, no matter how hard my granddad tries. She never goes out either; staring at the same four walls must be enough to drive anyone crazy. I even 'acquired' a wheelchair when I worked at the hospital so my granddad could take her out but she refused. She's her own worst enemy, I swear.
Anyways, I'll keep you all posted.
Peace
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As for Boston - I love it. I've been here for almost 20 years - moved here right out of college. I'm in it for the long haul
London is one of my favorite cities as well - been there twice - last time was last April. Unfortunately the dollar was worth about a half a pound back then, so it was verrry expensive for us. A small lunch cost us like $96... it was crazy!
Also she's slowly been losing her marbles and the last couple of times Ive been to see her she hasn't recognised me. It's hard because it's almost like she's a different person to the one I grew up with.
I lost a grandfather in a similar manner. Well, at the time I believed he was my grandfather. It was some 4 and half years ago, and was a shitty thing. He had tried so hard to teach me so much over my life, yet he didn't recognise me. It wasn't until a year or so after he passed away that I came to learn that he wasn't my grandfather, but more like a step-grandfather. Another six months down the track I learn that he is not only of no relation, but that his whole past is completely questionable...
Anyhow, this is not about my personal story, and it's all memories (mostly sad ones). To this day I still struggle to get my head around it all. You are fortunate that your Nan is still alive, and though she may not recognise you consciously, everything you say still reaches the heart. Don't hate yourself for not being overly emotional now. Make sure you get anything you need to say said, especially apologies (something I've personally never been good at). It'll all be good and you'll feel better about it. And I'm sure some love will help your Nan heal too.