So I got down to see my Grannie. I cried, naturally. Met her doctor, half of her brain is dead, it's better that she go, she never wanted to live like that, she, like my mother, cousin & sister, was a nurse, and always said she never wanted to live after a stroke.
I'm going to believe that the groaning she did when I talked to her was her communication with me. My sister says she doesn't know. But when I told her it was me, she groaned, when I told her not to hang around and that it was ok to go, she groaned.
And when we told her we were leaving, her good arm whipped out of the bedsheets.
I may go back down tomorrow. If she makes it that long.
And for the ironic part of all of this, in talking to my mother last night on the way home, my sister found out that my other grandmother is going into pallative care today. We had said wouldn't it be ironic if they went on the same day. Yeah.
My grandmothers are battling to make it to the finish line.