My granny had a heart attack on New Year's Eve. Of course she didn't go to the hospital, because that would be the logical and sane thing to do. Instead, she sat home for 3 days feeling like crap. Then disaster struck. She woke up in the middle of the night, tried to get out of the bed to go pee, and ended up falling on the floor. She was basically paralyzed (remember that she just broke her hip last winter), and was unable to get up off the floor. FOR HOURS. She laid on the cold floor from 2am to 5am, because she didn't want to wake anybody up. Isn't that insane?
My grandma lives with her sister (let's call her N), who has Down Syndrome. My grandma called for N to bring her the telephone at 5am, but she didn't call 911. No, she called my cousin (let's call her C). C and her husband came over, picked Granny up off the floor, and took her back to their house. Everyone was hoping that it was just a little tumble, but after a few hours it was apparent that something was wrong. My grandma couldn't move her legs, her chest continued to hurt, and she felt like utter crap. So, they took her to the ER, where it was confirmed that she had had a heart attack.
The hospital ran a bunch of tests on her today, but we don't know the results yet. From what I've heard from several family members, Granny will likely need a stent placed in her heart. I have been a nervous wreck, full of worry and fear. My grandma is the strongest woman I know. I love her dearly, and it is breaking my heart that I am so far away right now. I haven't seen her since Christmas of 2010, and I just have this overwhelming urge to go home. To be with my family. To see my grandma. Of course it isn't that easy. I have a little baby. It takes 12 hours to get there. John has to work. There are a million reason not to go, but my heart keeps insisting that I should be there.