What. The. Fuck.
So I got a call yesterday right after work. It was my aunt. I never hear from any of my aunts, my uncle, or my grandmother unless they want something and/or something is wrong. I called her back and my grandmother had collapsed getting up from bed and was barely breathing. So I ran back into work and told my boss I wasn't coming in today. I ran home and packed then FLEW up to Maine. My uncle called to let me know she was in York Hospital and they were rushing her into ICU.
I finally got there and I ran into the room as the Dr. was talking. She's on a vent, not really breathing for herself, and she's heavily sedated. I couldn't go in . . . that's how Mum was . . . wicked sedated on a vent. My grandmother is apparently not brain dead and should be fine. Apparently she has emphysema. It's really bad.
I stayed in Maine for the night and first thing this morning we all went to the hospital. They lowered her vent so she was breathing more on her own and they lowered her drugs. After a couple hours they had to sedate her again and put more work on the vent. I went in and saw her and it was a fucking flashback to Mum. Laying there in the bed, tube down the throat, being fed through a tube in her nose . . . I broke down. I held her hand and started tweaking. Then we went over to her house. The cop who was with the paramedics said the house was going to be condemned. There was mold, dog shit and piss, cat shit and piss, dirty dishes, garbage, and other unmentionables ALL OVER THE HOUSE. The cop gave us 24 hours to clean it all out or it would be condemned. They gutted the house. All the rugs, all the trash (THIRTY FIVE BAGS OF TRASH) was taken out. The house passed inspection.
So I called into work for tomorrow too. I need to be with her. She may have treated me like crap because of my father's mistakes, but she's still my grandmother . . . She's one of the closest links to my Mum I have. I can't go through this again. Dad doesn't seem to understand that it doesn't matter how much he hates Nana, he should care about how badly I'm taking this. I left yesterday afternoon, I didn't hear from him for a full 24 hours. He usually calls 4975437 times a day but when I really need him, he doesn't care. He really doesn't get that I need her. I don't care about how shitty she was to me, not calling me on holidays because she feels he made a mistake. She's still my Nana and no matter what I love her.
I don't want this to be real again. Three and a half years is not long enough. Why do I have to go through this three times in 10-ish years. First my great-grandmother, then my Mum, and now my Nana. I can't deal with this again . . .
Does this teach anyone about the horrors of smoking? All three deaths, all from smoking.
Fuck this all.