Fighting The Flab

I have to admit that I have been wanting to blog all day, to unburden myself of this weight that I have been playing over and over in my mind, and yes to admitting to being scared and afraid.

You see, as many of you who read this will know I am rather fond, if not totally in awe of my Grandfather (see Here is to the Grandads) and yes he is older now than he was and yes he is doing remarkably well. Recently has not been his best health time and nor do I expect it to, but late last night I got a phone call, just before midnight. You know you can hear the phone ringing, you know it is late, you know the voice on the other end is your mums, and you register the sentence, "it's Grandad, he has had a fall, but he is OK, I'm just letting you know" and you know the feeling as the icy fingers encircle your heart and squeeze.

The upshot of the conversation was mum saying thee was no need to go round and nothing I could do, (the neighbour is a nurse and has patched him up) and it was just to let me know that she would not be round today. Sleep returned un-easily and was disturbed most of the night.

Today I went to work and mum kept updating me on Grandad, he is OK, in a lot of pain with his back, cant move very well isn't mobile etc. Dr has been out and given him pain killers, bed rest for a couple of days etc... unless he keeps falling over in which case a trip to hospital and some scans. All very run of the mill stuff. I am close to my grandad so pop in on my way home from work. He is asleep ad I sit looking at I'm for a few minutes before going to talk to mum. Some thing is obviously wrong, firstly he is asleep on his side and my Grandad never sleeps on his side, secondly his breathing is shallow and seems a long time between breaths and thirdly he looks small and old.

I go and see mum and we have a coffee, when I check back grandad is awake, although a little disorientated and in a lot of pain, we talk about the fall, he does not remember much of it and admits to losing his balance and being unconscious (Grandad never admits to anything, especially when health is at hand, even when he had several cases of skin cancer throughout his life it was just a little thing and a bit of a nuisance) and he isn't really with it. I spend 30 minutes or so chatting to him and make my way home.

I have to admit to being worried, I know he is getting older and I know he is beginning to slow down (although the Grand kids keep him young) I have this nagging feeling way down deep that I keep pushing away that this may be the start of the end, but I refuse to let it surface much. I keep telling my self I am over reacting, but the feeling is still there. I know death is nothing to be afraid of, I know it is just a change, "Death is just a transformation,  It’s a little bit more radical than puberty but nothing to get particularly upset about. Death isn’t sad. The sad thing is most people don’t live at all" (to quote one of my favourite books) and he has certainly lived! But to be honest, on a purely selfish note, I will miss him and his guidance. I know it is me overreacting, but I cant shake the feeling. I am going to see him again tomorrow and hopefully he will be a lot better.

Just a post to share some emotions....