(no subject)

So mum's with grandmere again today, this time it's to get their blood typed for a transfusion tomorrow. Apparently, grandmere is now animic and possibly bleeding internally somewhere, so they need to get MORE blood into her so she doesn't pass out (I would think trying to figure out where she's bleeding out would be most important but I guess not).

Her kidney's are still at 28% functioning, but it's only at 15% she has to worry about dialasis. Her blood preasure is still too low and she's having trouble walking.

Mum called Uncle Micheal, to tell him to get his ass up here, as it's probably going to be her last Christmas. Uncle David is coming up sometime after Christmas and no one can get a hold of Uncle Walter.

I feel rather...blank. For so many years I hated this woman, and would do anything to escape her and now I'm faced with the very real possiblity that she is going to die soon, that I'll be free of her judgements and harsh words forever.

And the little girl inside of me weeps at the idea that Grandmere is going to be gone, but, and I feel really bad about it, but the woman who spent 26 years listening to how she was never good enough, smart enough or pretty enough, is rejoicing.

But, maybe Grandmere will be happy now. Something she hasn't been since Grandpere Bob died in the 1980's. I hope to the gods there's an afterlife, if just so she can see him again and shut up about it.

Heh, with all this talk about death recently, I've decided that some how, some way, someone is going to play the "Wicked Witch is Dead" song from the Wizard of Oz at my funeral. I want something that will make people laugh...with my own touch of humour.

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Originally published at Memoirs of a Nobody. You can comment here or there.

So mum’s with grandmere again today, this time it’s to get their blood typed for a transfusion tomorrow. Apparently, grandmere is now animic and possibly bleeding internally somewhere, so they need to get MORE blood into her so she doesn’t pass out (I would think trying to figure out where she’s bleeding out would be most important but I guess not).

Her kidney’s are still at 28% functioning, but it’s only at 15% she has to worry about dialasis. Her blood preasure is still too low and she’s having trouble walking.

Mum called Uncle Micheal, to tell him to get his ass up here, as it’s probably going to be her last Christmas. Uncle David is coming up sometime after Christmas and no one can get a hold of Uncle Walter.

I feel rather…blank. For so many years I hated this woman, and would do anything to escape her and now I’m faced with the very real possiblity that she is going to die soon, that I’ll be free of her judgements and harsh words forever.

And the little girl inside of me weeps at the idea that Grandmere is going to be gone, but, and I feel really bad about it, but the woman who spent 26 years listening to how she was never good enough, smart enough or pretty enough, is rejoicing.

But, maybe Grandmere will be happy now. Something she hasn’t been since Grandpere Bob died in the 1980’s. I hope to the gods there’s an afterlife, if just so she can see him again and shut up about it.

Heh, with all this talk about death recently, I’ve decided that some how, some way, someone is going to play the “Wicked Witch is Dead” song from the Wizard of Oz at my funeral. I want something that will make people laugh…with my own touch of humour.