I found out on Wednesday morning that my grandmother had a stroke and was rushed to the hospital. This morning I found out that she started hemorrhaging from the opposite side of the brain from where the stroke was and was moved to a different hospital that apparently has the top neurological staff in the Phoenix area. Last I had heard, she was supposed to have another CAT scan today to figure out why the additional hemorrhaging.

My uncle posted on his Facebook page that she was sitting up and talking with a speech therapist when the family arrived to visit today, though she’s jumping around and jumbling names and places a fair bit… which is to be expected. He suffered a stroke himself over three years ago, and thought it was interesting that he was able to make sense of what Grandma was trying to say before anyone else was able to.

I haven’t really talked very much about the whole thing with anyone. I told James, but he was with me when I found out. I mentioned it to a few other friends. But by far and large, I have a hard time making a big deal out of it.

I feel a little bit guilty that I’m not making a big deal of it… but honestly, I don’t really feel much of anything at all. My grandmother’s old. Old people have health complications and eventually they die. There’s not really much you can do about that. I feel like it doesn’t even make sense to get upset about it. She’s lived a good life, and if this is where it ends, this is where it ends. If not, it’s just a matter of time.