Carp!

Song of the day: “Sympathy for the devil” by Guns ‘n Roses. Very appropriate, somehow.

Well, let’s start with the bad news first, shall we? No sense in postponing the inevitable. It’s grandpa. This morning, while I was hanging laundry, he came there to pass through to the lower yard, after which we had a short chat. He complained how he’d had a really, really bad headache this morning, but other than that everything appeared to be fine. So we proceeded with our chores, big brother and I going up to feed the dogs cut bread for a change. You remember the why, right? Teeth, chewing. It should help some.

They loved it. The hunters treated the bread like prey and the fat ones treated it like treats. Chaos, for instance had three pieces wedged in his mouth, taking them off to a secluded corner. Indigo shoveled four pieces into her mouth before she tottered off to enjoy it some place private. I tossed a piece to Abacara, who had just picked up a bigger chunk and then proceeded to try take the smaller piece as well. Hah. Seriously, I should have taken pictures. It was hilarious.

While we were doing that, grandpa came to join us, looking a little lost. Then, while I started questioning how he was doing, he became a little desperate about being unable to finish his sentence. In the end, when I continued to prod him, he just kept repeating, (trying to bravely laugh it off) “I don’t know”. In the end, when it became clear that he wasn’t joking, we decided to take him to hospital.

First, he wanted to eat something, though, and I hadn’t had breakfast yet, and needed to call our teacher to cancel our lesson today. And then we were on the road, arriving at the hospital around noon. That’s when the waiting started. Luckily I had my manuscript with me, because that way big brother and I could get some serious work done during the long hours that passed from thereon.

We waited for the triage, explained everything, and waited again. We went into the doctor’s office, explained the problem, and waited again. Got called back again because she wanted to make sure she had heard right (only speech problems, no motor problems, she checked) and then we waited again. The blood test, and more waiting. The MRI, and waiting. The X-Ray and waiting until we got called into another doctor’s office for the results. Nothing conclusive, but if we could please wait for the internal medicine doctor who was supposed to look everything over and make a diagnosis. I asked if it was okay if we left for a bit first to get something to eat, and that was fine.

Big brother was waiting outside (only one companion is allowed in the waiting area) with some foodstuffs from the supermarket. We ate some, and grandpa seemed to be doing a little better. He wasn’t as vague, and as long as he didn’t think about it too much he could finish sentences. A late lunch over and done with, it was back to the waiting area for us. Gradually, as the hours passed, he seemed to be improving bit by bit, but when the internal medicine doctor had her turn, she informed us that there was a small irregularity in his brain scan with what could be proof of a small stroke. They want to keep him for a few days. Drat! Poor old fella. He tried to put a brave face on, but he hates it, I’m sure. Added to that, I do think he was pretty afraid, despite the fact that he was trying to hide it from me.

So there was more waiting, I tried to cheer him up a little by pointing out that at least it wasn’t a tumor or anything, and that we caught it pretty early, so with a little luck this would be over and done with. He wasn’t happy, but managed to hold onto a sad little smile all while we waited. Then of course we had to go to the infirmary, and he had to take off his clothes, shoes included, and dress in hospital pajamas. That hit him hard, I think, and he was constantly cold. I did manage to cheer him up a little again when he had to get in the wheelchair so he could be brought to his room, where I was sorry to have to leave him for the night. Such a horrible moment, when you have to leave someone on their own in that white hospital bed.

But it had to be done. I packed up the bags, said my goodbyes, and headed for the stairwell while phoning big brother. He picked me up at the front entrance and before you know it we were on our way home…with a slight detour to the gas station where we gassed up prior to heading for the hospital. Apparently, in the excitement, big brother forgot to put the lid back on. Luckily someone had brought it inside, and they’d kept it for us. Yay.

Cousin Ed had made soup when we got home, so we got some pumpkin in at least. Then there were the multiple pages of the paper we edited today. Only managed to get half of them done on the computer, but what the hey. Grandpa's doggies aren't happy, in fact they are sitting in front of his window like littler ghosts, waiting for him to come home. *sigh*

As for yesterday…who gives a fig. I’m sure drawing a blank. I’m sure we did something…just like this morning for that matter. There’re always chores to do, and I vaguely remember there having been a pick up in town. Other than that…you’ll just have to do without.
Time for bed. I gotta be at the hospital at ten tomorrow.