I haven't talked much about it because there really isn't anything anyone can do with a waiting game. My maternal grandmother was in the hospital for two and half weeks with an intestinal blockage and having some mental reactions to her medication withdrawal. She remembered I was me (instead of becoming someone else) but I was told to get the horse back down the street where it goes. She was in the ICU but thought she was in the nursing home. Mosquitoes are constantly eating her up. Fun stuff like that.
She got better when they started her meds again, and the hospital sent her back to the nursing home Thursday. Friday, while being transported to her dialysis treatment, she was thrown out of her wheelchair in the van. Her legs were scraped up bad enough to be mistaken for puncture wounds. She's on Plavix, which makes it so easy for her to hemorrhage. Luckily, it wasn't punctures and luckily it wasn't an artery that was damaged. She's back in the hospital again, looking so much worse now.
I didn't go today; Mom went alone. And Mama tells her that a man stayed with her all night, her best friend because he finally got rid of all the mosquitoes and roaches, but she never saw his face. Mom got the conversation off the mosquitoes because she's been going on about them for a month at least, and Mama was sharp enough to follow the Saints game. But then she pointed to another chair in the hospital room. "Oh he's back."
Nobody Mom could see was in the chair.
My cousin Savannah was visited by deceased family members that she could only see before she died. Mom saw her Uncle Dot the day he died. All my paranormal research points to more visitations than not.
Mama's body is shot to hell. A pacemaker and dialysis is what life support she has now. She's not listed in critical care by the hospital as far as we know. But she's eighty-years-old, you touch her and it hurts her, and now this. I don't know when her end is, but it is looking pretty damn close.Read Free!