Reflections

On Friday, I was tossing an idea around in my mind for a blog entry I'd been wanting to write for a while. Basically questioning the sanity of those (hopefully few) fellow able-bodied women who would ask the incredibly stupid/rude/(fill in the blank with insulting yet fitting adjective) question of men in wheelchairs, "Can you/how do you have sex?"

As is usual for me, I was pondering this while in the shower (driving and showers are two of my best "aha!" moment pondering times). I got out of the shower just to grab the phone and it's my dad.

My grandmother, who had been in the hospital for kidney stones (she was 85) had coded and was now on a vent in ICU. She'd been scheduled to go home that afternoon.

I just saw her Monday in the hospital, took the Boo up for a visit, and we sat and talked with her well over an hour. My grandmother had a heart attack in December and then they put a pacemaker in in January, but she refused bypass surgery. We didn't blame her, we accepted her decision. She had developed diabetes over the past few years and had severe arthritis in her hips.  But otherwise, she was still sharp as a tack, no dementia whatsoever.

I came home Friday night from Tampa with plans to go up the next morning. While serious, the doctors were hopeful she could be off the vent in a day or so because her blood pressure stabilzed and she was breathing on her own but the vent was helping her.

I got a call yesterday morning at quarter til six to get back up to Tampa. She passed a little over an hour later while I was on my way. But she wasn't conscious at the end.

When I get the strength, I'll write a long blog about her. My grandmother was an incredible, feisty, wonderful, kind, loving woman who played an integral part raising me during my childhood. As a baby I stayed with my grandparents while my mom worked, then as I got older I was there every weekend and all summer. Their anniversary would have been on the 18th. 66 years they were together. Today is mother's day, and my birthday. I finally have a legitimate reason no one will blame me for saying screw birthdays. (My past several birthdays have been a royal cluster-F for various reasons and I was looking for a reason to just forget worrying about them. I could care less for the age reason, that doesn't bother me. I'm just sick of them being "special" and yet horrible.)

My grandfather is, needless to say, heartbroken. We were especially worried about him yesterday morning, he was practically catatonic, but he started coming around after a few hours as the news sank in.

It's still sinking in for me. I caught my husband watching me several times today (I know he's worried about me) and just want to scream. Except I'm afraid if I do (or cry) I won't stop. So I push it back for now. I have to. Have you ever felt like that? Where you know you have to let it out but can't do it right at that moment because you know you can't control it yet? I've had a few outbursts already, but I just can't let it go yet. I can't imagine life without her in it. I don't want to. I loved her so much and we were very close.

So forgive me if I'm not my normally snarky self for a while. Or if I'm exceptionally snarky. On the way home from Tampa last night there was an a$$hole on the interstate who was blocking traffic in the left lane and I successfully resisted the urge to run him off the road (thank you very much). I knew if I got into some sort of road rage incident I would come flying out of my car and scream at someone that it was not the day to piss off or F with the seriously grief-crazed woman. I could almost envision reaching into someone's chest and ripping their heart out with my bare hands and screaming in satisfaction as I did so. 

Uh, yeah. And that's why I'm holding it in for now. It's a serious force of nature, my grief, and I need time to process it in a non-felonious manner. (I used to crack Granny up with my snark. I got a good heaping dose of it from her genes, by God. *LOL*)

So tell me how you deal? Have you dealt? Suggestions that won't get me arrested or killed? Thank god I'm not a huge drinker, although I did take a valium I had left over from messing up my shoulder last year when I got home last night to help me sleep. Better living through pharmaceuticals, right?