Close to Home, pt.2

I can see the concern on our nurse's face when he hears my report. I sound less like a family member, and more like an EMT.

"Seventy nine year old female presented with sudden slurred speech. Cincinnati Stroke Scale wasn't exactly passed, but wasn't exactly failed either. No other complaints, other than excessive thirst. No history of diabetes. Some left sided facial droop. She's just acting...strangely."
"Good catch," he says as he puts his hand on my shoulder.
"Thanks."
"Whatever happens, you did a good job."

I just nod as I go into my grandma's room. I watch the tech start a great IV, and sit down in the corner. The doctor comes in, starts talking, and before I know it, she's in the CT scan. I am exceedingly tired, and I try not to take a little nap.

"When can we go," I hear my grandma say as she's wheeled back in the room.
"I don't know, Grandma. We have to get you checked out and make sure you're okay."
"Then we can go to New York?"

I look to my mom and she just sighs.

"I don't know, Grandma," I say again.
"What do you mean?"
"Well we'll just have to see what happens, okay?"
"Okay."

Time passes and my vision starts to blur. I work so hard to keep my eyes open, but every now and again I let them shut. I drift off for a few minutes, but when I open my eyes, I see the doctor.

"Everything looks fine, Mrs. Montgomery. I think you had a TIA, but I feel comfortable discharging you with a prescription for Plavix. Now if you need anything don't hesitate to come back here, okay?"
"Okay," she says, "now how about New York?"
"G...grandma," I pause, "I don't think we're going to New York."
"What? Why? Of course we are."
"I just don't feel comfortable driving all the way up there with you having just had a TIA."
"But we have to go! Let's just go now and we an get there early in the morning, okay?"
"No, we're going to get something to eat and then go back home."
"Fine," she sighs, "whatever you think is best."

I feel so bad, but I know it's what's best for her. I help her to the bathroom one more time, and on the way she stumbles over nothing, catching my arm. Once in the bathroom, she falls and I catch her before she can hit the ground.

"Hey, Doc, I don't know about taking her home. She just fell in the bathroom and tripped in the hall...I just don't know."
"I say just take her home, and then have her see her doc there. Maybe he can direct admit her to the hospital there."
"Yeah...uhhh...okay."

We find a place to eat in this military school town, and I eat quickly. I just want to get home so we can get her taken care of, but time seems to be moving so slowly. I get up to take her to the bathroom again, and two military guys eye me hungrily. I sigh heavily and help her into the bathroom.

"I don't feel so good," she says.
"How so?"
"Just don't feel so good."
"Okay, let's get you out of here, alright?"
"Okay."

We go back to the table to get the check, and she reiterates this sentiment to my mom. Mom looks at me, I look at the car, and she nods.

"Pop-pop," I say sort of quietly, "we're going to go back to the hospital."
"Why?"
"She's not getting any better, and now she's saying that she feels bad. Mom and I just don't feel comfortable taking her home."
"Well okay then."

So we start the trip back.

An MRI and carotid doppler later, they decide to admit her--finally. Mom and I manage to snag the last available hotel room in the city and collapse onto the beds tiredly.

The phone rings.

"Hey honey," I hear my mom say, and I laugh as I realize Dad's calling from Antarctica.

I roll over sleepily, and mom starts the story.

"So you'll never believe what happened today."