And sometimes bad things happen...

So this last week has been rough. I say rough instead of sucked the proverbial monkey balls because things could have been worse. The feeling at my house is "if the police didn't come and nobody died" it really wasn't that bad. Being sick has sucked but it's not that unusual for me. I wasn't life or death sick, just sick enough to be listless and irritable. Then on Thursday, Sean had an accident on his way to his Civil Air Patrol meeting.

It's an hour's drive from our house to where the meetings are held. He stops in the town half an hour away to either meet or ride with his friends. Sometimes the one guys dad drives, or the guy drives, sometimes Sean drives. Well, this time Sean was driving. And he was driving my car because it gets better gas mileage than his truck. The exit he takes comes down into a double left turn lane. He pulled into the farthest left lane and stopped at the light. A semi driver, with a double trailer, pulled into the lane next to him. He was on his cell phone. The semi driver changed lanes in the middle of the intersection. Sean managed to slow, but was forced into oncoming traffic. Luckily, he didn't collide with the oncoming traffic. However, the last set of tires on the last trailer of the semi clipped the front of my car. The semi driver did not even get out of his cab or get off his phone. He yelled and asked if Sean and the other boy were alright. Then he drove off!! It being Sean's first accident, he wasn't thinking clearly enough to get the guys license plate number or name of the trucking company. Or insist that they call the police. But luckily, he and his friend were unharmed and the car is driveable. There is some body damage though. But all in all, it could have been way worse. And the damage to my kid would have been far worse than any damage to my vehicle.

The second bit of not-good-ness happened Sunday/Monday. Sean has been my company/getter of everything I need while I've been ill. He's watched a massive amount of weird TV shows with me. Made many many glasses of something to drink. Fetched everything from my book, to tissues, to my favorite blanket. He started coughing Sunday. At first, I thought it was just his asthma acting up because he forgot to get one of his meds refilled. Yesterday, he woke up with a fever and a headache and a worse cough. Did I mention he gets pneumonia at least as often as I do? Luckily, because I went to the doctor already (oh yeah, the dr. says I have pneumonia, color me surprised!) and because of his history with it, they just went ahead and called his meds in so we don't have to go back. So now we're sickies together. Talk about your quality time...it's a wonder we haven't killed each other yet...

But all of this is small beans compared to what comes next. On Friday night I got a call from my aunt. She said that grandma had been admitted to the hospital because her red blood count was low and they were giving her transfusions. She gave me some values for the count but that was really all she knew. She hadn't been able to get ahold of my folks. So I said I would call them. They were at Hildi's in Ohio. I called and talked to my dad. I said that the values she gave me didn't make sense for your red blood count (I'm familiar with blood count values thanks to Lu's disorder). But my aunt has untreated fibromyalgia and can be a little spacey. My mom called my uncle, but well, mom can be kind of spacey too and all she got out of the conversation was that grandma was in stable condition. The next morning I called my SIL, who's an RN. She said that they must mean her hemoglobin was low and yes, they would transfuse at that value. Now the doctors would have to find out where she was losing the blood from or what was causing the drop. Grandma had been diagnosed with chronic leukemia several months ago and so we thought maybe it had to do with that. My SIL gave me strict orders not to visit the hospital with my pneumonia and if I was running a temp bc my grandma's immunity is shot. So I stayed home.

My folks hightailed it home from Hildi's on Saturday. They said they would be at the hospital on Sunday. I asked them to call me from there and let me know what was up. I was still running a fever. All I got Sunday was a text from my mom saying that grandma looked pretty much the same as she had been and they didn't have any new info. I relaxed. Yesterday, Hildi texted me and asked if I knew where the heck Mom & Dad were. She'd called their house and gotten no answer and they weren't answering their phones. None of that is unusual. I said no, but I was a little miffed that I couldn't get a phone call from them the day before while they were at the hospital. She said she'd requested one as well. She didn't even get the text. We were texting back and forth when she stopped texting. Again, not unusual because she has small children. Then the phone rang and I saw my Dad's cell number. I thought he was calling to check on me. (Selfish, no?) But the tone of my Dad's voice put me on instant alert. They were at the hospital. They'd found tumors in my grandmother's pancreas, gallbladder and liver. She is not a candidate for surgery due to health concerns. They are doing a liver biopsy (needle) today to be absolutely certain, but they are 95% sure the type and aggressiveness of the cancer. The recommendation is hospice care. No prolonging measures. The prognosis is for weeks, maybe months. But the goal is only to make her comfortable and pain free.

This is my mother's mother. My father's mother passed away when I was thirteen. Breast cancer. But my father and mother have been married for 43 years. He loves my grandmother like he did his own. He was in tears. I've only seen my big strong Daddy cry twice. Once, when his mother died. And the night my sister got married. (Of course, he was way drunk then). I cried too. My grandmother and I have been very close. I was the first grandchild. But I immediately asked if he talked to Hildi yet. He had. But she was home alone with the kids, her hubby at work. I called her immediately. She was doing okay. She'd called her hubby and he came home from work. The girls were patting her back and stroking her hair. But she was frantically trying to figure out whether she should come right away or wait. And if she came, how would she manage it. Her oldest daughter can't miss any more school. What would she do with the youngest if she brought her? We figured most of it out, but she's waiting for the needle biopsy results that we'll have on Wednesday to make a final decision. My father implored me to stay home one more day and give my meds time to work. So I won't be going to the hospital until tomorrow.

The only bright spot in all of this, is that my grandma has dementia. She's not really lucid a lot of the time and I have to think this is a blessing. She doesn't comprehend that she's got cancer. She continually asks why she's in the hospital. And so she doesn't know what she's in for. I can't help that think that's a good thing. You can't fear the reaper if you don't know he's coming.

I'm sorry this has been such a downer post. But it's been a downer week...

♥Spot