Um, I found out tonight that my grandpa is in the hospital. I'll be going to visit him tomorrow if I can handle it. When I was a kid, the same grandpa was in the intensive care unit, and I had to go see him because everyone thought he would die.
Anyway. His health has never been good. His lungs are really bad. He's supposed to be on oxygen during the day but he'll only take it at night. Stubborn Dutchman. My father is obviously this man's son, I can tell you all that.
Apparently he has some pneumonia this time. He's in the hospital every so often. I guess after seeing him look damn near dead before, I'm not afraid to lose him. I never really knew him anyway. He's not the kind of man you get to know. He's reserved -- although he chortles loudly at British comedy; he and my dad both really love "Are You Being Served?" -- and he doesn't do the whole man of the 90s thing.
For those who've heard me go on about how cool my grandpa is, that's the other grandpa. All my cool relatives are on my mom's side, of course. ;)
We wouldn't have even known about grandpa being in the hospital if my mom hadn't seen someone at the grocery store. This fellow looked so much like my dad, Mom said, but he had a kid in his grocery cart! When my aunt showed up, Mom recognized him as my dad's little brother, watching one of his daughters while the other accompanied his wife on a quest for some item. I've noted the striking resemblance between my dad and his brothers before, and this brother is the one who looks most like him. It make watching my uncle's wedding a few years ago really hard on me. Um.
Anyway. Nice to know Grandma cares enough to call us and fill us in on our grandpa's health. We're the only relatives he has in the same county as the hospital he's in; in fact, we're near enough that I could walk there and back, although my legs would yell at me for awhile after. And she didn't let us know. Fuck you too Grandma! I just hope he doesn't up and die now. Grandma's always been frail mentally (inherited predisposition to mental illnesses, anyone?) and if the bugger dies on her, she might have to get put in assisted living or something. She can't really be left alone, I would think. Hell, she stood by the ass's side after the whole town knew he was cheating on her -- he owes her a bit more sucking up before he leaves her all alone again.
This isn't going where I wanted it to go. I just wanted to say that my grandpa is sick, but not dying or anything (this time, heh). I'll probably be heading back to my own house after visiting him in the hospital in the morning -- more like afternoon, as it's an abyssmal hour and I'm still awake. I plopped some files back on the laptop and listened to it make strange whirring sounds at high volume.
I might not be around for a while after this. I need to rethink what I'm doing online, with my time in general, with some particular stuff. I'm getting really tired of my computers crashing and losing my data. I'm sick of "upgrades" I can't breaking my website or making it difficult, if not impossible, for me to navigate. I'm sick of writing and wanting to get some sturdy constructive criticism and never getting anything that I can use to improve my writing.
What all this means in short is that, even if I manage to get my laptop online quickly (or rather, if Sin does it for me, as I can't figure it out on my own), I won't neccessarily be all that active online. I would like to finish some things I've started as far of writing and storylines go, rather than leave other writers hanging and waiting for me. I swore I would put in appearances at a few roleplay places online and I suppose I'll have to buckle down and get those in once my laptop gets online. I just don't really enjoy it anymore.
I don't give a damn about good writing; it's not my #1 priority. I would rather have some socialization and some nice conversation with friends, and I'm not getting that lately. My online social circle keeps tighening and closing in, and I have always been awful about making new friends. I miss the Vine, where people could randomly IM me about anything, and somewhat frequently did. I met some great friends that way. And I keep up with, what, five of them anymore? Eight? How many do I actually remember to email if I don't hear from them, instead of waiting for them to magically appear on AIM? Two? Three? Just the one?
I have a lot to think about. I should probably do my best to get some sleep before visiting Grandpa. Ever since that time he looked already dead, I've been wiggy about hospitals. Sometimes I do okay, particularly if I'm there because someone is recovering or getting out. Sometimes I'm there for other reasons and I can't think straight.
Oh, Pat, I know you'll never read this, but I miss you. I'll keep wearing that watch your gave me, even though I need to get it fixed. I'll keep singing too, just like you always wanted me to. Maybe nobody much will hear me, but I'll try not to be shy like I was when you asked. I wish you could hear me sing now.
(Pat was my piano teacher when I was maybe twelve or so. She loved to hear me sing more than play. When I mentioned one day that I needed to buy a watch, she gave me one. It was perhaps the last thing she ever gave me before she died. Her artificial heart valve wasn't enough to save her. I'd gone with her to the city when she first needed to look into the surgery. I still have that watch beside my bed. I usually wear it even to bed, but it's currently in need of new battery and wristband, so it would be a bit pointless now. (The advantage of wearing a watch to bed is that I can read it even without my glasses, but the alarm clock is too far from my eyes, and therefore blurry.))