Weekend

Going to Nottingham fell through. You may recall that Liz's Mum and Partner were going to meet my Mum and Dad for the first time this weekend, except we got woken up at 1:30am on Saturday morning. My parents had just got out of the hospital in Leeds to which my Grandma had been rushed following a heart attack.

Saturday morning She underwent a number of emergency procedures which ultimately led to her suffering from internal bleeding. She was placed on a ventilator on 100% oxygen and her vital signs continued to fall, so the doctor explained to the family that there was nothing more that current medical science could do to save her and that she was going to die. The only question was how quickly.

If she had been kept on life support she would have lived up to another 3 weeks - at the most. He explained that, in his opinion, it made the most sense to simply "remove active care" by which he meant reducing the oxygen level to 40% - about the same content as normal air. That way she would only survive as long as her body was able to sustain itself. She died about an hour after they turned the oxygen level down.

It may take some time to organise the funeral as the hospital has to get a second opinion as to whether she is dead or not, then she will need to go to the undertaker's. With this weekend being bank-holiday weekend it's unlikely they will be able to book the funeral until after that. I will, of course, be going to Leeds for the funeral which will be held somewhere near where she lived. She will be cremated and her ashes will be buried near my Grandad's tree (under which his ashes were buried) - as was her wish.

It's very surreal as she was always very well. Or at least, not ill. She always had some minor ailment or another such as sore feet and aches and pains. She had many problems with her toes and used to take every pill imaginable, but she didn't have cancer or any indications that she was likely to have heart problems in the near future. She was fully compus mentus, although her memory did occasionally fail her (but at age 82 I hope my memory is as good as hers was). Most old people die after a long bout of illness, she merely went from being fit and well to being dead, no warnings.

The last time I spoke to her was a few weeks ago when I was trying to get hold of my Dad, who had gone to visit her. I rang her house but he had already left to go home as snow had been forecast. I had a 10 or 15 minute chat with her during which she asked for my home number. The next time my Dad visited she told him all about my call and she seemed very pleased I'd taken the time to talk, and she even told him she'd got my number and written it in her phone-book (which is more than my parents have done). The night she had the heart attack my parents were able to find this number to ring me and tell me what had happened.

The last person to speak to her was my sister who rang her on Thursday to tell her that my Dad would be visiting on the Saturday - the Saturday on which she died. My Grandma told her to ask him to buy her a paper, and that was that. Suffice to say she never received the paper.

A few weeks ago she confided in my Dad that she had two wishes before she died:

1. See my Sister ride her horse that she is breaking in,

2. Go to my and Liz's wedding.

She didn't manage either.