In the past week, she has had an angioplasty to clear the blockage to her heart. She's developed an infection that the doctors are trying to treat, but cannot tell where it is coming from. Her liver and kidneys are shutting down. Right now, she's on a ventilator because she cannot breathe on her own. She's unconscious and not responding. The pneumonia has basically taken over her lungs and her blood pressure is all but non existant.
The doctors said this afternoon that at this point it was hour by hour. I was supposed to drive back to Atlanta again (4th trip in a week) to get John from the airport, but he got an early flight and I went this afternoon to get him instead. uncle Frank is driving in as I write this from New Mexico - unless he flies in he will not get here before Saturday. When Maggie got home this evening from the hospital, she told me that they're giving her 24 more hours and then they're taking her off of life support.
I took Damien out to dinner this evening, and when I took him back home I told him that I was conflicted about everything right now. Part of me is grateful that she will not take this pain and sufering anymore, because if she's aware of all of what her poor little body is doing then I know it has to be agonizing for her. I cannot bear that, even the idea of it. That is the practical part of me that I'm trying to listen to. The other part of me is the one that has tried for a while now to accept the inevitable - I've struggled with this for a long time now, long before she went into the hospital - and still I'm not at all prepared to let her go just yet.
I'm just at a loss. I'm so completely tired and worn out, and I haven't even hit the numb part yet. I'm just trying to conserve what energy I have left to get through the next 24 hours and be there for the family. Cole is staying home from school tomorrow so we can all sleep in (hopefully) and I'm going to try to do the same. I've been up since 4 AM and I'm at my limit, but for as tired as I am, the minute I start to get sleepy I start thinking about Granny and Paw Paw. I've always thought that he could somehow manage to live without her, but now I'm scared of just how foolish an idea that is. They've been each other's life for longer than I can conceive - he's spent the majority of his life taking care of her. He was convinced that this evening she squeezed his hand and I'm not sure how that is possible. His hope and faith that she's going to get better somehow is not letting him accept what is about to happen and I'm at a complete loss for what to do once it does. How can you live without a component of your life that in essence IS who and what you are and always have been?
I'm going to try to sleep now, you guys all keep me in your thoughts and send me energy - I need it more than you can know right now.