This week sucks.
After bawling my eyes out yesterday over my health and my doctor’s lack of empathy and understanding, I get a call from my dad that my grandpa will not make it through the weekend.
He has been in and out of the hospital for years. He goes in, they fix him up, he goes home. He gives us scares a lot. I’m not sure how many times we’ve been to the point where we thought he was going to die. And the stubborn old guy claws his way back to being his normal self. That’s what he is supposed to do. That’s what’s supposed to happen this time too.
But it seems as if he’s run out of saves. We’ve run out of false alarms. We’ve run out of calls to tell us, nevermind, he’s okay.