On October 3rd my Grandmother was rushed by ambulance to the hospital with a 104 degree fever, a blood pressure of 70/55, and a ton of blood in her urine. She had a raging sepsis infection and her doctors were less than optimistic.
After weeks of roller coaster like emotions, Hospice being called- she starts to prove everyone wrong and decides that despite the fact that her doctors gave her less than a week to go- she'd like to call the shots when she wants to head to Heaven.
Now is not that time. She's eating again. She's recognizing us again and is back at the nursing home. Not the ideal place for her; however, it is our only option as she requires twenty-four hour care and her insurance doesn't cover that.
The exact day she headed home my Father had a doctors appointment. A bit past due, admittedly. He's not a fan of doctors and thinks that because his Father is still happily trucking along at 95 that he will, too.
A few hours after his appointment the VA(Dad's a Vet so they handle most of his medical needs) called insisting that he come to their ER as his blood count was critically low and he was critically anemic.
The whole family heads down there. I do mean everyone:my Brother, my Mom, Kenzie, Duane, and myself. Dad's blood was even lower than in the afternoon and he earned himself a bed on the fifth floor and 3 pints of fresh blood.
After lots of test his doctors discovered that he has a large(expected to be cancerous)tumor in his colon. They're a bit thrown off as benign tumors typically don't grow that large; however, cancerous ones are painful and Dad isn't experiencing any pain. Tomorrow he's scheduled to have it removed and Kenzie and I will wait it out in the waiting room.
Our family seems to be really being tested through trials and tribulations. Sometimes I wonder why everything gets put on ones plate at one time. Each second I remind myself that God is in control of everything. I have caught myself saying that I cannot handle that- but God seems to know my limits a bit more than I do.
I thought that my heart would not ever be able to love again after Zoey was called home- and here I am- completely in love with her sister, while still aching for her. God works in mysterious ways and all I am left to do is pray. Good old fashion prayer is better than any doctors diagnosis. I think my Grandmother's recovery is proof of that.