Health

When I got home, I decided to get some lunch.  I ate all of the Swedish Fish Lisa gave me and then made some nachos.  As I was eating, I flipped through CSI and Law and Order: CI.  I don't honestly get how people can stay home all day and watch tv for days on end.  I was bored right then and there.
My Mom came home and asked if I wanted to go with her to the hospital to see Grandma.  Sure.  I got ready (which mostly consists of combing my hair, there's no one who needs me to wear makeup in the hospital) and then we left.  My Mom had to drop something off, and I flipped through the radio on the car, trying to find something we could agree on.  I stopped at the Beatles's "Blackbird."
At the hospital, my Mom realized she had forgotten her cell phone out in the car, so I was sent back to get it.  And then finally I wandered up to see my Grandma.
She looked worse than when I had seen her last.  Her arms were swollen, and when I inspected her fingers, they were too.  Her skin looks so weird and gelantaneous and her skin has weird patterns on them.  She reached for my hand.  I took it, not really thinking.  She was hot to the touch.
Because she is so sick right now, no one is suppose to touch her without gloves on, and after remembering, I did put them on.  It felt weird touching my Grandma's hand with a glove on.  Like wearing a condom, sort of.
I skipped around on her tv, looking for something she might like.  Score!  Criminal Minds.  The hottness, once again.
I read a celebrity magazine as my Mom talked to her.  She mostly reasked the same questions about where she was and what happened.  My Mom was impatient with her, but I tried to answer her questions patiently.
My Dad had been there earlier in the day, and I noticed that he was reading a book on Freud.  Maybe now he'll know something about psychology?  Probably not.
Various nurses and doctors came in to see her.  One asked me if we needed anything.  I said that she needed to be placed in the chair so she could eat her dinner.  She went to go get someone else to help her and we sat her down.
They brough my Grandma dinner.  My parents then left to get themselves something to eat, and I sat and watched her.  I read the magazine, or parts of it.  (There were lots of celebrities I had never heard of.)  I turned on SpongeBob Squarepants.
My Grandma ate by herself, which is a big improvement.  She asked me for something to drink, but we're trying to get her to do it herself, so I pointed to where it was on her tray and she did it herself.  A doctor came in to give her pills midway through her meal.
My parents came back and then we left.  We went out to dinner.  I have been desperate for protein, so I had an omelette, even though normally I have either an omelette or a hard-boiled egg every morning anyway.
When I got home, my sister was about to leave to go to the movies.  I got on my computer, intending to maybe write something.
There was a message from my friend Christine that she had a miscarriage.  This has to be her second one.  I feel badly for her, because I know she really wanted this baby.  I guess I'm also surprised, because she told me a few days ago how he (or she.  It was never really determined.) was kicking about and all excited for New Years Eve celebrations.
Seems like no one in my life is doing well health-wise.      

Christmas Eve

I did go out with my friends last night, but I had trouble sleeping on Christmas Eve's Eve.  I get up at eight every day, normally, and I think my brain is still trying to get me up at that time.  In addition to that, the neighbor's got this really awful dog.  My parents refer to these dogs as yippers, and I probably don't have to tell you what it is about this dog that was waking me up twice in the early morning. 
I shouldn't make excuses as to why I was so grumpy.  I was trying really hard not to be, but I get depressed at Christmas.  Without fail.  I can't remember a Christmas after my middle childhood that didn't get me sad somehow. 
I tried to get some things done, and then my Mom and sister wanted to go to the hospital to visit my Grandma.  I wanted to go too, so I came along. 
My Mom and sister decided they needed to go to a craft store, so I got dragged along.  While we were in the parking lot, I saw someone I went to school with years ago.  I don't think he saw me, thankfully.  I don't know what he's doing, and I luckily am not half the loser some of our fellow students have become, but I hate to rely on gloating.  Even if we could argue I deserve it. 
My Mom and sister spent a long time looking at frames and posters.  I think they originally went in just to exchange something and turned into a redecorating of the bathroom.  This happens a lot when they shop and I've learned over the year to keep myself entertained.  This time I wandered around a bit, focusing on candles.  Candles are one of those things I would use if someone else bought them for me.  I am loathe to spend the money myself.  I am even more loathe to spend my time sticking my nose in a bunch of dusty jars filled with colorful wax. 
I realized as they were checking out that it was 1:30 in the afternoon and I still hadn't had anything to eat.  I tried to remember my last meal.  Madison and I had split a basket of sweet potato fries at the bar last night.  That was it.  That was my last "meal."  I eyed the rootbeer-flavored candies.  They were appealing. 
We finally got to the hospital.  My Grandma was in the room, trying to sleep.  She was awake, but she refused to open her eyes, a normal tactic she likes to use.  We tried to get her to at least talk to us.
A few weeks ago, Faith had given me one of those headbands with reindeer ears on it.  I wore it at a Christmas party, and now I put it on in the hospital.  Even though my mood was souring, I was trying not to get upset. 
When my Grandma finally opened her eyes for more than a minute, she said "What the hell is that on your head?"
That's what she's like.  On a good day. 
She then decided she didn't want to open her eyes.  Then she was moaning for us to give her water to drink.  She's recently taken to ordering us to give her water, even though she can get it herself.  She also started ordering me around to wipe her face.  We're trying to get her out of the hospital and she won't do anything to help herself, since they try to determine if she can take of herself to place her in the appropriate kind of home. 
I went to the cafeteria to try to find something to eat.  I wandered around and saw nothing I wanted.  I have had so much sugar lately just the thought made me sick. 
I went back to my Grandma's room.  They were trying again to wake her.  She wasn't cooperating.  I suggested maybe splashing a little water in her face, which my Mom did.  My sister and I tickled her toes.  This mostly didn't work. 
She has a tv in her room, and I started looking around.  I found Criminal Minds, and this cheered me up disproportionately.  I squealed.  The sound wasn't that loud, but it scared my Grandma enough that she kept her eyes open for five minutes. 

I have recently taking to calling my love, Matthew Gray Gubler, the hottness.  Obviously if you've seen him, you don't need me to explain why I call him this.  My parents have started teasing me, because they think it's ridiculous. 
I tried to watch my show.  Nate texted me, saying Merry Christmas.  I was a little surprised, since Nate is Jewish, but I considered that maybe his family did secular Christmas celebrations.  We chatted a little via text messaging.  He said that his family was having tacos for dinner, which made me laugh and made me realize they really weren't doing anything special.  (Which is fine, because really, they don't have to.) 
Because Nate is part of a particular group of friends, I started thinking about those people.  I really wished I was celebrating Christmas with one (or more) of them instead of being stuck in this hospital, trying to bring Christmas cheer to my Grandma who not only was rudely ignoring us but not even trying to take care of herself enough to get out of the hospital. 
I texted Paul.  I almost called Paul to tell him that I missed him and explain this recent episode of my life.  He puts up with a lot from me. 
But I hesitated to call.  Paul's got family too, probably lucky enough to have the unselfish kind, and interrupting their Christmas celebrations is unfair.  I texted him "Merry Christmas."  Maybe if I was lucky he'd call me?  If not it meant he was probably busy. 
In the meantime, my family was in and out of the room, taking care of things for my Grandma.  I was left in there to watch her.  A nurse came in and started measuring her vitals.  My Grandma opened her eyes long enough to insult the woman's hair, which was tied back in a ponytail with a headband.  It looked absolutely fine, but my Grandma does this all the time, and this is part of the reason we have a hard time getting her help: no one wants to do something extra for an old woman who showers abuse on people.  I berated her for saying that. 
Then someone else came in to change her diaper and she peed all over the bed while all the sheets were gone. 

Mother's Day at Rehab

They said I had to go to rehab, and I said no, no no...
These were probably not the lyrics I should have been thinking about as I walked in to the rehab facility, but then again, my Grandma does love to tell people no.
My Grandma got sick sometime in late March. I say sometime because my family lied to me about what was going on with her. I only found out because they couldn't come up with a better excuse not to come see me give several readings and lectures that were suppose to be the culmination of years of work as an undergraduate.
Every semester I was at MSU, she managed to get sick. You would think, eighth time over, that I would stop getting upset about it, but I always manage to. Even when I think "oh, I seem fine," something happens that proves to me I'm clearly not okay. Last semester, I was at an open mic night and a young woman played a song she wrote for her Grandmother, and I ended up sobbing. Luckily, no one took notice.
My Grandma was really happy to see us. She was smiling and making silly faces as I tried to take pictures of her. I really want a picture of her hands. I think her hands, with their large veins, are fascinating. I realize other people hate the veiny look, but I think it's beautiful, like an abstract painting.

We mostly spent a little time having ice cream and cake to celebrate Mother's Day. My Grandma had a piece of chocolate cake with a pink petal on top of it. She attempted to eat around it, which eventually caused the cake to tip over from its own weight. We had a nice conversation as a family.
A man with a ukele was in the cafeteria, playing Hank Williams and Neil Diamond songs. He was an excellent musician, though the kind of singer that so many people hate. As he was working though the Carter Family's "Let the Circle Be Unbroken," I thought about how much I wish I would magically summon a singer-songwriter I like in (Double Saginaw Familiarity, Spitzerspace Telescope, Priscilla Ahn, Robert Francis, Liz Phair...) rather than listen to him. I'm bored to tears with "good chorale" singing I hear so frequently, but I don't like the dying cat aesthetic either. My Grandma screwed up her face and said "at least he's trying." Later, she complained about him to a nurse.
We cleaned her up, because the nurses never take as good of care of her as they should. Her skin is really dry now and peeling off. I'm wondering if we should get some scrub that they sell at Bath and Body Works.
While I was waiting, I read a science book and texted Paul. My Grandma has a roommate at rehab, and she had on the Tigers game and then a reality show on remodeling on, both really loudly. My Grandma showed me her rosary and told me that my Grandfather gave it to her. She's seems to have forgotten that he died almost seven years ago.
The worst part was saying goodbye. She started crying and asked why she couldn't come home with us. I tried to explain that she had to be there to get better, but logical answers don't really work well with her.
She moves back to her place on Wednesday. In the meantime, I'm going to be going to see her everyday. Then on Wednesday, I'll be helping move her back to her apartment. I might be staying with her Friday since my Mom has to work. So, basically, expect a lot of updates about her over the next few days and in general. When I'm back at home, my family spends a lot of time taking care of her.